


With This Ring...

by Dokuba



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 82,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dokuba/pseuds/Dokuba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iruka reluctantly agrees to an arranged marriage to save his adopted family from financial ruin...and is horrified when Hatake Kakashi rises to the offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (By Anon)

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks and dedication goes to Anon for finding my Prompt on kakairu_kink and writing this drabble/prologue to get this plot bunny running :3 *showers mystery writer with virtual cookies*

*~*~*~*~*~  
 **Prologue (by Anon )**

  
Iruka stared in disbelief at the papers spread out on the dark oak table before him. _'This could not be happening.'_

The clearing of a throat brought his attention back to the other occupants of the room. He felt numbly cold as he stared into the eyes of his foster father, the Sandaime Hokage. _“Please,_ tell me you’re joking.”

“If it were entirely up to me, Iruka, I would indeed tell you it was all a joke, but as you can see, the choice is not mine.” Sarutobi lifted his aged hand to gesture at the four other elders in the room.

“Iruka-kun, I understand this is not an ideal situation, believe me,” Sarutobi Akemi interjected quietly, lifting her head to meet Iruka’s eyes firmly. Her face still bore signs of the beauty she had been in her youth, though age had softened it to a kind of noble dignity. “However, we are all agreed, you are the last chance we have to rebuild the family fortunes. You are the only child of bindable age remaining in the clan. Though you are not of our blood, you have proven yourself a true son of the Sarutobi clan.” She reached out and rested a weathered hand over his. “We ask this of you in the name of your clan. Help us.”

Though her words of praise lit a warm glow in his heart, Iruka couldn’t help but feeling like he was floundering. “Forgive me, Sarutobi-sama, but is this truly the only option?”

Her brown eyes softened. “I am still your aunt, Iruka-kun. I know you are unsettled, but do not put such distance between us, please.”

“I’m sorry, obasan,” Iruka relented, all too aware that this was the woman who had acted in stead of a mother when the Hokage had brought a parentless child into the clan.

She brushed her lean fingers over his cheek. “Of course you are forgiven, my boy. Please understand, we would not ask this of you had we any other choice in the matter.”

Iruka sighed and looked down at the papers resting on the table. Each of the plain folders was a prospective match arranged by the Nakodo of the Sarutobi clan.

“We are not so heartless, my boy,” the Hokage spoke, drawing Iruka’s attention back to him, “that we would deny you the chance to make your choice among those we present.”

Iruka willed the fingers that reached for the folders to not shake. Bowing his head in defeat, he gathered up the thin stack of folders. “Please excuse me. I will look these over and bring my choices before the Nakodo. For the good of the clan.”

He left the room with every pretense of dignity, but sagged as soon as he was out of the doors. The doors did not close completely behind him and he was just lifting a hand to push them the rest of the way when a voice from the other side stayed his movement.

“He is angry,” Sandaime said sorrowfully, sounding older than Iruka had ever heard him sound before.

The quavery voice of Sarutobi Eiji replied, “But he will do as he is told.” The thump that followed told Iruka that the old man had rapped his cane against the table. “We cannot afford for him to do otherwise.”

“Iruka-kun will do what is best for the family, as he always has.” Akemi interjected, her voice gone cold and disdainful. Iruka could imagine the withering look he knew she would be directing at the other elder. “He is a good boy and a truer son of this clan than many actually born to it. Now, if you will all excuse me, I fear this all has left a bad taste in my mouth.”

Iruka swallowed the bile in his own throat and fled the tower that had been his home since the horrible night his parents died. His fingers were clenched so tightly around the papers that they ached, but he paid the niggling pain no mind, distracted by the greater pain of knowing that he was being used to rebuild the clan’s shattered fortunes.

~*~*~*~*~*~

He was eerily calm that night as he pored over the information contained in the packets, coldly assessing the candidates and what the monetary gift they would offer his adopted clan would likely be. He wasn’t fool enough to believe that this would be anything more than a way to provide support for his clan’s crumbling financial situation. Frozen, he carefully selected the three that were most likely to offer his clan the most.

He knew the Hyuuga’s were maneuvering for more political power, and that’s why he was holding a folder for the eldest daughter of their main house. Sweet little Hinata would do as her father commanded, but Iruka felt utterly nauseated by the thought of wedding one of his students. He could not see her as a potential partner.

The Mori clan offered their clan head’s youngest daughter, who was a good six years older than Iruka and as perfectly brought up as would befit the clan. She had been groomed toward an advantageous marriage since she was a child. Iruka knew she would calmly accept anything that improved her clan’s standing. She was pretty enough in her portrait, but the look in her eyes was so blandly biddable that he had to suppress a shudder.

The last folder in his lap had no attached portrait, but the name on the manila paper was all too familiar. Hatake, one of the most influential clans in all of Konoha. They longed to ally themselves with the Sarutobi clan to erase the scandal of the famous White Fang’s suicide. Surprisingly enough, the folder contained only one or two carefully written sheets delineating everything they were willing to give if their candidate would be considered for marriage. There was almost no information at all on the candidate, but Iruka was under the impression that there were no daughters of anything near marriageable age in the clan house. Still, what they were willing to offer moved them up to the top of the list.

Iruka put the papers aside with a sigh. He would do what was best for his clan. As he always had.

Iruka had turned in his candidates to the local Nakodo, and endured an interminable interview with Mori Junko and the inevitable meeting with her parents, grasping creatures.

He had hidden the Hyuuga’s file under a mountain of old paperwork and handed off another folder in her place, but the young woman was taken ill and asked if they could reschedule their meeting for later, so that left only...

Iruka stared numbly across the interview table at his _“prospective”_ marriage partner.

Hatake Kakashi, master of a thousand Jutsu and infamous reader of brightly colored pornography, glanced over the cover of one of those garishly colored books and offered him a little wave. “Yo.”

If this were hell, Iruka wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it, but it must have been something truly unspeakable.

He’d been sitting there, being utterly ignored for bad pornography, for over half an hour. Kakashi had occasionally looked up and smiled in that strange, one-eyed way of his, before returning to his book. Iruka had just made up his mind to leave when he saw a terribly annoyed group of Hyuuga’s heading his way, brandishing the folder he had hidden among the papers on his desk in the mission room.

Iruka saw the glare in the leader's eye and knew that they were about to be mortally offended at him for the next three hours.

On impulse, he plucked the book from Kakashi’s hand and grabbed his collar, hauling the jounin across the table. “Congratulations. I’m marrying you.”

Kakashi blinked at him slowly and a smile curved the thin lips behind the mask. “My, this is all so sudden, Iruka-sensei. I just showed up in the hopes of a free meal.”

**************************************************

 


	2. A Battle of Wills

The Hyuuga party stopped dead in their tracks upon hearing Iruka's declaration. The most elaborately dressed of the three visitors pointed to a small silver-haired woman as their leader. Iruka could not place her name, but he instantly recognized the hard face as belonging to that of the head Matron of the entire Hyuuga clan and grandmother to both Hinata and Neiji.

The Matron raised a thin eyebrow at the two men stretched frozen across the table to show that she was not amused at the spectacle before her. The silver comb that ran through her bound hair bobbed slightly as she spoke. "I am Matron Yukari of the Hyuuga clan. I come on behalf of my family to demand an explanation for why you, Sarutobi Umino Iruka, have not made an arrangement to meet my granddaughter." Her voice carried a tone only reserved for disobedient children but also held the conviction of a woman who was used to being obeyed.

Iruka gulped. He should've known better than to hope to be rid of the Hyuuga clan so easily. Kakashi's lips stretched further in amusement as the color drained from Iruka's face and Iruka wondered if the Hyuuga party would leave if he started throttling the jounin, but instead he tightened his grip on Kakashi's collar until his knuckles turned white. If he was going down, then Kakashi was going to join him.

Kakashi broke the tension in the tiny room with a syrupy voice that practically dripped beneath his mask. "Now, now, my dearest," Kakashi murmured as his hands gently clasped Iruka's wrists. "Where are your manners? Yukari-sama must be offered a chair." His fingers stung painfully at pressure points to force the chuunin to release his hold. 

Iruka snatched his hands away and resisted to urge to rub his wrists. "Err, yes. Please have a seat Yukari-sama." He shot Kakashi a glare for using such a dirty trick. If anything, Kakashi's grin became even broader. Asshole.

But before Iruka could speak, Kakashi clapped his hands to get the attention of everyone in the room. "Well now, it's very nice to see you again Yukari-sama." He bowed to the old woman respectfully. "Iruka-sensei, I will soon have the contract ready for you to sign." He leaned over the table to tap Iruka affectionately on the nose. "You have made me a very happy man." 

The breath caught in Iruka's throat at the unexpected gesture, and for a brief moment he could almost believe the sincerity behind the jounin's words. His expectations were utterly dashed when Kakashi disappeared into a puff of smoke. 

Iruka's jaw dropped in disbelief. _'He…ran away? That BASTARD!'_ He was brought back to earth by a disdainful sniff from the Hyuuga Matron. Iruka tore his eyes away from the empty chair and pulled his lips into a semblance of a welcoming smile that was utterly wasted on his present company. 

"Now that he's out of the way, we can get skip the pleasantries and get down to business." Yukari tapped her mahogany walking stick to summon a willowy female assistant to present Kakashi's empty chair for her to sit. The other, a tall grizzled bodyguard, fingered a dagger thrust through his yukata belt as he scowled about Iruka's cramped office. Both servants possessed the dark hair and eerily pale eyes that designated them as part of the Hyuuga clan with the addition of the Bird Cage seal upon their brows.

Yukari smoothed the embroidery on her lavender kimono as she lowered herself onto the rickety chair. The light color of her dress seemed to intensify the determination in her silver eyes. She folded her hands and regarded Iruka as if she were seated on a throne. "It has been nearly five days since I had sent my granddaughter's proposal." She sniffed again to show what she thought of the delay. "It would give the union a shaky start if your lack of etiquette were to become publicly known to the other clans."

The polite smile faltered, and Iruka decided then that it was probably best to be frank and to the point. "Madam, I never sent the invitation because I had no intention of marrying your granddaughter." 

"Nonsense," Yukari scoffed. "I can see right through your ruse. The arrangement with Hatake Kakashi is a fraud and made only because he was conveniently in the room. It's as plain as a bee-sting that you can barely stand the man!" 

"I can assure you that is not true." Iruka was hard pressed not to sound disgruntled as he lied through his teeth. "I hold nothing but affection for him, and after much consideration I have found that a union with the Hatake clan would be the most beneficial to the welfare of my family." He was tempted to add that he would rather be wed to Lady Tsunade's pet pig than to a former student, but he wisely withheld that remark. 

Yukari made an impatient gesture, and her female servant dutifully presented a carved scroll case from her white robes. Yukari waved a hand over the case. "I have here the full details of Hinata's dowry and a monetary contract to help rebuild the Sarutobi clan's financial assets. I am sure that my Clan's offer would be far more fruitful than one made with the disreputable Hatake family."

Iruka did not bother to hide his frown. The stubborn woman obviously did not like being refused. "I have personal reasons for my decision."

The old woman became silent. Her eyes flickered between Iruka and Kakashi's file that laid forgotten on the table. Her shrewd expression made Iruka shift uneasily in his seat. "If Hinata does not suit your needs…" her middle fingers tapped the pommel of her walking stick. "Than perhaps my grandson Neji would suffice?"

It took a moment for the full implication of Yukari's words to sink in, and when it did the callousness of her offer stunned Iruka into silence. His expression did not change, but a cold fury bubbled in his chest to spread throughout his limbs and into the very marrow of his bones. A muscle in his jaw began to twitch--Iruka had not realized that had been gritting his teeth, which was a sure sign that he was on the brink of losing his temper.

Matron Yukari took Iruka's silence as a pause to consider her offer. "I am sure in time a suitable couple in my clan could provide an heir for you and Neji to adopt--" Both Yukari and her servants jumped when Iruka slammed a fist onto his desk as he rose to tower over the seated old woman. 

"How _dare_ you treat your own kin like bargaining chips!" Iruka strained to keep his voice a growl, but despite his best efforts his voice rose in both fervor and volume. "However you may try to wheedle yourself into the Sarutobi clan you will _not_ get in through me! It is my right to choose whom I will marry, and my decision to wed Hatake Kakashi is FINAL!" 

Yukari had stiffened with indignation at the outburst and she glared daggers at Iruka, who matched her gaze defiantly as they stared each other down. Yukari's scandalized servants stared in open-mouthed amazement that someone had dared to show such disrespect to their Matron. The minute hand on the wall clock ticked as the silence stretched.

"Very well." Yukari's lips pulled in a wry smile. "It pains me to admit defeat, but I can see when there is no prize to be gained." 

Iruka's eyebrow rose in surprise. He had not expected to repel the Hyuuga Matron so easily. 

Yukari seemed amused by his expression. "I am happy to see that the Hokage's adopted son has a little backbone," she chuckled. "You may be worthy of the Sarutobi's noble name after all."

"Um, thank you?" Puzzled, Iruka sat back in his chair. He was unsure of what to make of Yukari's strange change of mood, but he was no fool. He had sat with the Third Hokage during negotiations and had seen firsthand how diplomats could switch tactics in order to tip a situation into their favor. 

Iruka watched Yukari warily as she addressed her female servant. "Hanako-chan, could you please fix us some tea? I fear that I need to explain the full context of my presence here." 

Iruka declined the offer of tea. It had not gone unnoticed to him on how the Hyuuga Matron had subtly made herself into the host and not the uninvited guest in his private domain. With some effort Iruka smoothed his expression as Hanako pour hot water into a blue-chipped mug.

"I did not come here today with only the Hyuuga Clan's proposal in mind." Yukari accepted a the mug from her servant. "I wanted to take this opportunity to explain the formalities that will be a part of your marriage ceremony. As you are aware, arranged marriages among the shinobi nobility is an ancient tradition that predates Konoha's history, and were originally included in treaties." She paused to sip her tea, which was made from the finest leaves Iruka owned. "Are you familiar of the role a Nakodo plays in these arrangements?"

"I know that they are matchmakers." Iruka pushed Kakashi's folder into the one cleared corner of his desk as a gentle reminder to Yukari of his decision. He did not like the smooth edge her voice had took.

"Other than being a matchmaker a Nakodo acts as a mediator between clans. Shinobi custom dictates that a couple marry in three day's time to ensure that the contract is honored, as it has been done so since ancient times. The Nakodo for the elite shinobi clans help to prepare the young couple for the ceremony, and supervises the bride over the wedding plans." Yukari shook her head pityingly at Iruka. "I can sympathize with your ignorance of our traditions, given your humble background." 

Iruka felt his eye twitch at the slight. "We no longer live in the past. I can hardly see the reason for having a Nakodo in this day and age." It was preposterous for him to be married in three days. Married. To Kakashi! Iruka wanted to _scream!_

"Nonetheless, tradition must be kept, and I intend to see that it is so." Yukari held up a wrinkled hand to display a silver ring engraved with the symbol of the Konoha leaf. "I am Nakodo among the Konoha elite; and I will be overseeing your union with Lord Kakashi, Head of the Hatake clan. Anything less for the son of the Hokage would only bring disgrace to our village." 

Iruka gaped openly at the old Hyuuga woman. Yukari sat with a smile that bordered on becoming a smirk. Sarutobi Umino Iruka, adopted son to the Third Hokage, was going to be punished for refusing the Hyuuga clan's offer. And judging by that damnable woman's expression, Yukari was going to be anything but pleasant. 

Yukari's smile widened to reveal her teeth. "I see that it is only proper to assign Kakashi as the groom for the ceremony, since he is the rightful heir and head of the Hatake clan." Her voice turned sickly sweet. "I assume that you have no objection taking on the role of the bride?" 

At that moment, it finally dawned upon Iruka that his personal hell had only JUST begun. 

 

~*~*~*~*~


	3. The Burden of Duty

Only a handful of people cared to remember that Umino Iruka had smoked regularly before being appointed a full time job at the Academy. Like any former smoker, Iruka felt the urge to start again whenever he was under intense stress, but he had always been able to ward off his cravings due to the very likely threat of pre-Genins stealing his cigarettes. Iruka himself had stolen quite a few when he was young.

"The nerve of that woman!" Iruka seethed as he fumbled in his pockets for a lighter. A cigarette dangled from one corner of his scowl. He had summoned a clone to fetch a pack the moment the Hyuuga party had gone and Iruka darted for the roof as soon as it came back. He wanted to privately savor his shame in peace. Today seemed as good as any to restart old habits--and most especially after what he had endured locked in a tiny room with Hyuuga Yukari. 

Yukari was planning the wedding to be a solemnly formal affair. And since Iruka was the adopted son to the Hokage, she intended to invite only the most prominent shinobi leaders to witness the ceremony. As the Nadoko, Yukari had the final say right down to flower arrangements. 

The lighter wavered in Iruka's hand, and he had to concentrate to steady the tiny flame. A grandiose wedding was the last thing he had wanted. He had nearly shouted himself hoarse arguing with Yukari, who would then thrust her silver ring under his nose to show him who was in command. Iruka controlled his temper by picturing the faces of the all the members of Sarutobi clan. It helped to remind himself why he had agreed to go through with the arrangement. 

Umino Iruka had been an orphan just shy of fourteen when the Hokage invited him into the Sarutobi clan. Most had welcomed the troubled youth into their family, and some treated Iruka as if he were no different from their own blood. Iruka had not thought it possible to be so unconditionally loved since his parents died, and he would do everything in his power to save his surrogate clan--even if that meant binding himself into a loveless marriage. 

He had never considered the possibility of settling for anything less than a relationship grounded in love; but finding one had been virtually impossible between the two full-time jobs he took to help support his clan. Iruka had the opportunity to date only a handful of men, but nothing came from those relationships apart from casual sex. Iruka was a romantic at heart, and giving up that dream had crushed him more than he liked to admit. He had resolved to set aside his preferences for the sake of duty, but he _never_ suspected that his betrothed would turn out to be the undependable, ill-mannered, and infamously lecherous Hatake Kakashi. Just thinking about their wedding night made Iruka's skin crawl. 

Iruka coughed violently over the cigarette before he was able to take a full drag. His leaned against the guardrail and closed his eyes to banish all troubling thoughts as the tobacco circulated throughout his system into a pleasant nicotine buzz. A blissful smile curled his lips. _'By the nine hells, I needed this!'_

"Smoking again?" A smooth feminine voice said behind Iruka. "I see that some family traditions don't need to struggle in order to pass on."

"Obasan!" Iruka yelped and spun around to find Sarutobi Akemi standing calmly before the entryway. His aunt's skill to approach the chuunin undetected was a testament of her rank as a retired jounin. Iruka instinctively hid the cigarette behind his back before realizing it was a futile gesture. 

Akemi smiled at the abashed look upon her nephew's face, which reminded her of a child caught stealing sweets. "There's no need to hide, my boy, you are well old enough to make your own decisions." As if to give weight to her words she drew back her green robes to unhook an iron-wrought pipe from her obi, of which she always kept hidden behind her back. It was always a shock for strangers to see the dignified sister of the Hokage using a Biyõkiseru cudgel as her preferred weapon, and even more so whenever she revealed it to smoke. In her prime, Sarutobi Akemi had been renowned throughout the Fire Nation for her tobacco-related jutsus.

Paying no mind to the filthy ground, Akemi settled herself in a formal position before producing a tiny hand-embroidered tobacco pouch and a thin metal rod from her sleeve. The rod was used for scraping and packing her pipe, and like most of shinobi tools it doubled as a weapon. "Although," she continued, "I was hoping to only have Asuma carrying on with our tradition." She said the name sadly. It had not yet been a full year since the Hokage's son had died, which in part had been a major factor in the clan's financial downfall. Asuma's death had also tragically left his pregnant lover without a father to their child. Kuranai had lost everything from the Sound's attack, and she and her son were among those in the Sarutobi clan who's futures hinged on the outcome of Iruka's marriage.

Iruka gave his half-smoked cigarette a sour look before he flung it to crush beneath his heel. "I didn't want it anyways," he lied. He really, _really_ wanted it, but he'll be damned to start smoking again because of that Hyuuga woman.

Akemi flicked a match alight on the concrete roof. Her mouth quirked dryly over the stem of her pipe as she studied Iruka's mood. "I'm assuming the meeting with Yukari went well?"

Iruka threw up his hands in exasperation. "That woman is hell-bent on taking over _everything!_ " He made a disgusted noise. "I'm half tempted to marry that bastard Kakashi at some weekend hot spring resort just to spite her!"

"Don't forget that you willingly chose this path." A hard look flashed in Akemi's eyes. "And marriage should never be treated so disrespectfully, Iruka-kun." 

Her tone quelled the anger in Iruka's throat, and he swallowed it down as a hard lump. Akemi's expression softened with encouragement, and Iruka felt his spirits lift. His aunt was as wise in the ways of the world as her elder brother, and she had a way of helping Iruka keep his temper in check. He waited in a respectful silence as Akemi went through the motions of lighting her pipe, and she did not speak until she had breathed the embers to life. 

"I suppose we should have informed you that a wedding adhering to traditional etiquette would help restore some of our clan's political influence." Bluish smoke framed Akemi's words. "Pomp and ceremony is expected for a son of the Hokage, and it has its role to spread word that the Sarutobi Clan is again powerful with enough wealth to spare in this union." 

"I understand _that,"_ Iruka muttered sullenly. "But no one told me that I would be the _bride!"_

Akemi raised one eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with that?" She chuckled at the abashed look on her nephew's face. "I have attended similar marriages before, as rare as they might be, and not all of the men wore shiro-muku* finery." Wisps of smoke drifted around her wry smile. "And considering the other candidates, I'd have thought you would be pleased with your selection."

Iruka felt warmth spread across his cheeks, and he adverted his eyes. "He's not exactly what I was hoping for." Akemi was among the few in the Sarutobi clan that was aware of his preference for men. After a moment Iruka met her gaze. "My decision was entirely political." 

"Most arranged marriages are," Yukari agreed as she tapped some of the spent ash from her pipe. Her tobacco had long lost its moisture and burned out quickly. It was an uncomfortable reminder of the family's ruined wealth. "As it is, Kakashi will need all the help he can get if his plans are to succeed."

"Plans?" Iruka leaned closer to listen. Perhaps now he could learn the motives behind Kakashi's strange offer for marriage. "Obasan, what are you implying?" 

His aunt hesitated before answering. She lowered her pipe as a sign that what she had to say would be grave. "Kakashi's father died labeled as a traitor in our village. His suicide only resulted in cementing his shame onto his clan. Most respectable shinobi will not accept a marriage contract from one who bears the sullied Hatake name. Superstition hints that to do so would invite disgrace into their bloodline."

"Ridiculous," Iruka muttered. He turned to scan the empty rooftops that dotted the landscape of Konoha. He had no idea that such outdated thinking persisted to this day--and among shinobi no less! "A person should be measured by their own actions. Kakashi has dedicated his life protecting our village, and I say he's honorable enough!" He was a little surprised to find himself defending the man. 

"I forget sometimes that you were not raised among old fogies such as myself." Akemi shook her head sadly. "It is because of superstition that no prominent families are willing to accept a marital union with the Hatake clan. It is Kakashi's responsibility to restore his family's lost honor, and it is also his duty as a shinobi to help ensure the prosperity of Konoha's future generations." 

"Future generations?" Iruka echoed. He had caught implication behind those words. "How do you mean?" 

Akemi shifted her gaze to puff her smoldering battle-pipe, obviously reluctant to say more. "A union with the Sarutobi clan is a powerful statement to all of Konoha; if the Hokage is willing to mix blood with the son of a disgraced leader, than all from the Hatake clan are worthy of the right to marry within the shinobi elite." Akemi said those last words as if it pained her to admit as much. "It is a sad thing that our comrades could be so blind as to allow one of our village's most powerful families to wither away. In these troubled times the Hatake Clan is one that Konoha cannot afford to lose. Perhaps one day there will be no need to raise children for war, but that time is not now."

Iruka felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. He had no idea that such a burden had been placed upon Kakashi's shoulders. The recent attack from the Sound was enough of a reminder to Iruka that he had helped prepare children for violence. He did not like it, but it had to be done in order for their village to have a future. Akemi's revelations made his own misgivings about the wedding seem utterly childish and petty. 

Akemi continued to puff on her pipe, and to Iruka she suddenly appeared very frail and worn-out. "Duty can be a double-edged sword, and it is especially so when you are young." She gave him a tiny smile that was not unkindly.

"I've survived worse among my students." Iruka forced a weak smile. "And at least I have only three days to deal with Matron Yukari."

 _"Nadoko_ Yukari is fully capable of ensuring the restoration of both the Sarutobi and Hatake clans." Akemi gave Iruka a mild look that brooked no nonsense. "You must do your best to heed her advice, even if she behaves no better than a pickled toad." Akemi flashed one of her rare grins. "To be honest, I'm relieved that you did not accept her offer. I've shuddered at the thought of welcoming her into our family as my sister!"

"Oh, I don't know…' Iruka returned the grin. "At least I can guarantee that she doesn't read porn!" 

Laughter followed the smoke into the air.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Iruka nervously tapped the butt-end of his pen against his desk as he scanned the contract that would literally sign his life away. His eyes widened when he caught a drastic modification hidden among the legal jargon. Apparently Kakashi had decided to increase his monetary offer as a bonus for Iruka's agreement to wed. 

"This is far too much," Iruka said as he placed the papers down. To say that the amount was generous was a grave understatement. It was more than what Iruka would make in ten years if he saved every ryo between his two paychecks. The amount was generous enough for the Sarutobi ancestral home be completely refurbished, and have enough left over for a sauna and a koi pond to be installed! "My clan can get by with far less," Iruka said firmly. His family was not _that_ destitute. 

"It's fine." Kakashi said behind the ever present _Icha Icha_ book. "I don't have anything else to spend it on," he said while flipping a page. One would not suspect by Kakashi's demeanor that he ranked among the wealthiest residents in Konoha village. 

Iruka was almost ashamed to find himself suspicious of Kakashi's peculiar generosity, but nobody gave away a sizable fortune without good reason. "Wouldn't you rather set some aside?" Iruka pressed. "There must be some in your family that might need it in the future." 

"Oh, _them."_ Kakashi casually waved a hand in dismissal. "I've been disowned by my clan ever since my father died. They should be grateful enough that I'm clearing the Hatake name for their brats." 

Iruka blinked. Apparently relations between Kakashi and his family were a little strained. "Then why marry now?" he asked, and wanted to add _'And to me of all people?'_

Kakashi shrugged. "My days on the battlefield are numbered. I'd rather have the bulk of my fortune go to a clan that's proven its worth to Konoha while I still have control of it." He flipped another page in his garishly orange book, unconcerned. "As for the rest of my family, they can all go rot in hell." 

_'Okay, maybe a little more than strained.'_ Iruka glanced at the buxom brunette pictured on the _Icha Icha_ cover. Kakashi obviously liked women enough to read that smut, but until earlier that day Iruka had not heard even a whispered rumor to indicate otherwise. The memory of Kakashi tapping his nose flashed before his eyes. Had there been any truth behind that little flirtation? Or was it all a sick ploy to get under Iruka's skin? Iruka could not stop himself from blurting "Why me?" He _had_ to know. "I'm nothing like those women in your books."

Kakashi lowered his book. His dark eye seemed to contemplate Iruka's tense expression, his own masked face was unreadable. "There _is_ one thing that made me choose you over all the eligible woman in Konoha." 

"Oh?" Iruka took a nervous sip of his tea before setting it aside. "And what's that?"

"Well, for one thing…" Kakashi's eye curved slyly as he drawled "you don't have PMS."

Iruka did not dignify Kakashi with a response. Without saying a word he opened their marital contract to gouge his name next to Kakashi's signature, then threw it into the jounin's face as he marched stiffly into the hallway. Iruka slammed the door shut with enough force to shake the room but acting out his anger did not give him any pleasure. In three days he will be married to Hatake Kakashi, and Iruka had the rest of his life to spend it in matrimonial misery. 

Inside the office Kakashi peeled a loose page off his face. _"I_ thought it was funny," he grumbled to the empty room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	4. Cold Feet

The sunset that evening was a glorious one. A golden sun bathed Konoha in a spectrum of rosy hues as it made its nightly decent. Birds chirped their evening song as they flitted about the clear summer sky, and a few venturesome bats squeaked through the trees as they began their hunt for insects.

Hatake Kakashi was too engrossed in his own thoughts to be bothered by nature's beauty. The outburst that he had elicited from Iruka, just hours ago, weighed heavy on his mind. As Kakashi made his way home along the outskirts of the village he would occasionally pause to shake his head in bewilderment before moving along. 

Kakashi had learned at an early age that politeness and formality were only a mask people used to hide their true intentions (he had the Hatake clan to thank for _that_ revelation) and ever since his father's death, provoking people had almost become second nature to Kakashi. He had found over the years that he could learn some interesting tidbits about a person when they were off-balanced--the right jibe used at the right time could make their mask slip to reveal an honest reaction to whatever situation Kakashi had nudged them into. Kakashi excelled at this unconventional means of intel-gathering, and other than being an endless source of entertainment he also saw it as an insightful means to glimpse into a target's mental state. 

He had learned so far that his fiancé, Sarutobi Umino Iruka, was more than a little disgruntled with choosing Kakashi to marry. True, Iruka had only agreed to marry Kakashi when he was backed into a corner by the Hyuuga Clan…but the unexpected appearance of Yukari had worked into Kakashi's favor to allow him to snag the only available hand of a Sarutobi clansman. Nonetheless, Kakashi had decided to test Iruka's resolve by abandoning the other man to deal with Nadoko Yukari without his help. Kakashi did not want to tie himself to weak personality, and he _refused_ to become a convenient means for Iruka to bypass an unwanted marriage. Kakashi had been pleasantly surprised to discover Iruka still willing to sign the marriage contract after meeting with Yukari, though now Kakashi was having second thoughts over their compatibility. 

Kakashi had provided everything that the other man could want in their marriage contract, and yet the chuunin seemed dead-set on having a stick up his ass with him and the entire arrangement. Iruka was acting as petulant as a spoiled child. Really, the man should not have taken responsibility for his clan if he was unable to handle it. They were not going to last long as partners if Iruka kept up his act, and Kakashi could definitely see their marriage ending with a kunai at each other's throats.

Kakashi had no real desire for marriage. He had been content to live alone during the years since his father had died with only the ninken pack to provide all the company that he needed. If he ever felt the urge for human interaction he always had the companionship of his fellow jounin. But now Kakashi was approaching his thirtieth birthday (a fact that still surprises him) and with age comes a new perspective on how he wanted to spend his remaining years. 

Kakashi did not want to die unmourned as the last of his line. An encroaching fear of his was that he would waste away among the empty rooms of his estate with only the ghosts of his memories for company. It was a terribly lonely prospect, and one that needed to be rectified otherwise his ancestral home would forever remain empty. As much as he despised his relatives Kakashi needed to make amends for his father's disgrace to ensure the Hatake bloodline to survive. The simple truth was that shinobi blood must mix with other shinobi blood, otherwise the Hatake bloodline and their secrets would weaken then forever disappear. 

The corners of Kakashi's mouth quirked at the thought of his relatives. Kakashi could never, _ever_ forgive them for abandoning him, a six-year old boy, when he had needed his family most. He wished that he could see the looks on their imperious faces when they heard that he was about to be married into the Hokage's family--and most _especially_ when they discovered that they will not inherit a penny from Kakashi's personal fortune after he died. They will get nothing from Kakashi other than the right to fuck the other snobs of shinobi nobility, and perhaps someday, the privilege to do so would allow a child to be born worthy to inherit the Hatake name. 

The ancestral home of the Hatake Clan was not as grandiose as the other mansions that dotted the Konohagakure landscape. Even with his considerable wealth Kakashi preferred to live in moderation and without the aid of servants. His only hired help was in the form of the local gardener that did little else other than pull weeds, and Kakashi was satisfied with just that. He did not like strangers to intrude on his privacy, but that will all change when he was married--Iruka was notorious for his sociable personality. It went without saying that the chuunin would be moving from his low-income apartment to Kakashi's home. But on the other hand, Iruka was a shinobi that rarely left the village, and it might actually be a nice change to have someone waiting for Kakashi to return home after a dangerous and bloody mission.

As Kakashi neared the path that led to his home he spotted one of his neighbors taking advantage of the cooling heat to water her garden. Morino Kanao was a plump grandmotherly woman that appeared perfectly at home tending to her garden and the hoards of stray cats that took up residence on her property. Kakashi knew better than to be fooled by appearances; Kanao was a retired Black-Ops ANBU interrogation specialist. Kakashi knew first hand what woman was capable of--as a boy he had found out the hard way the one time he had tried to pinch sweets cooling on her windowsill. Kanao was famous for using a pair of blunt chopsticks as her preferred interrogation tool, and Kakashi had heard from a reliable source that she would leave after breaking a prisoner with a smile on her face and without a single drop of blood staining the wood.

He gave Kanao a familiar wave and she put down her watering can to return the greeting. Despite himself, Kakashi was rather fond of his neighbor. Kanao was one of the few constant presences in Kakashi's life, and she was among the few that had never treated him differently before or after his father's suicide. 

Kanao's wooden clogs thumped hollowly against the packed dirt as she walked up the path. Mud from her garden stained the hem of her faded blue yukata, which was not an untypical sight. Kanao rarely gave much merit to clothing befitting her noble bloodline, and had always preferred comfort and practicality in both her appearance and manner. "I just heard the news!" She said cheerfully, and her round face creased to show wrinkles made from a lifetime of smiles. "Congratulations!" 

"Word travels fast." Kakashi shook his head in bemusement. No doubt Kanao had eyes-and-ears scattered throughout the village to help her keep a finger pressed firmly on the pulse of Konoha's gossip chain. As the saying goes: once an ANBU, always in ANBU.

With her greeting out of the way, Kanao planted both of her fists onto her hips as she regarded her young neighbor with a stern look. "Please tell me that you are not getting married just for the sake of the Hatake Clan."

Kakashi willed himself not to sigh with exasperation. There was no use avoiding nosey neighbors (especially if they were armed with good intentions) "I don't see why it's any of your business." 

"I have a right to know of what goes on in my neighborhood." Kanao impatiently tapped a foot to show that she was not easily put-off. She could match Kakashi tit for tat when it came to being brusque, and she was most especially stubborn when she felt that her opinion was in the right. "The Sarutobi Clan's reputation _and_ your own safety is at stake. It would be wise to fully consider your decision before you marry that sweet young man. "

"I've considered," Kakashi snorted. Iruka was hardly a threat when compared to himself, and the chuunin was anything but 'sweet.' "He's got his own selfish reasons for our agreement, and I can tell you that it's not because he likes me."

"Exactly!' Kanao folded her thick arms over her bosom. "I _know_ you, Hatake Kakashi, and it is an undeniable fact that you cannot resist pushing people's buttons. If you are truly serious about marrying that boy you will do whatever it takes to be a gentleman and welcome him into your home."

"I agreed to marry him, not change who I am" Kakashi grumbled, then grimaced when Kanao shot a boney finger into his chest. 

"Unlike _YOU,"_ She prodded to emphasize the word. "Iruka-sensei is beloved by the citizens of Konoha. It will be your undoing if you don't put forth the effort to make him happy." She jabbed her finger again, harder. "Otherwise the villagers would be more than willing to string your sorry ass up for crow bait. And who knows? Perhaps in time you will both learn to tolerate each other, and maybe fall in love."

"I tolerate him enough already!" Kakashi retorted indignantly. "Otherwise I wouldn't have offered myself in the first place!"

Kanao withdrew her finger and her expression became unreadable. "But do you even _like_ him?" She asked after a weighted pause.

"I've seen how he looks at other men," he said evasively.

Kanao lifted an eyebrow, waiting. 

Kakashi did like to reveal his emotions, which was a big reason why he wore a piece of cloth to cover half his face. He had first noticed Iruka long ago in the mission assignment room. Iruka had never been intimidated by Kakashi's reputation and had always bit back at the jounin's banter when others chose to politely ignore his rude behavior. It was those exchanges that made Iruka stand out to catch his eye, but Kakashi had long given up hope of ever forming a relationship with the chuunin since he was a part of the Hokage's family. Most of the Shinobi elite would not willingly involve themselves with a Hatake that was also the son of a traitor, and until recently Kakashi had believed that Iruka was of a similar mind. An offer of marriage was a last drastic move on Kakashi's part and done entirely on impulse...though in hindsight, Kakashi never considered that Iruka would _actually_ accept his offer. 

Kakashi shifted his stance uncomfortably before he finally made an agreeing sound to Kanao's question (albeit grumbled sullenly) under his breath. He was grateful to have his mask firmly in place to hide the color that blossomed under his pale skin.

A slow smile pulled at the corners of Kanao's lips. "I'm happy to hear that," she said, and Kakashi was surprised to hear relief in her tone. She reached to pat his hand affectionately. "Your methods might be a little unorthodox, but you deserve to have love in your life like everyone else. Why, in my day--" Her voice trailed off when she caught sight of movement behind the jounin, and her grey eyes widened in surprise. It was Kakashi's only warning before an all-too familiar voice screeched his name.

"KAKASHI-SENSEEEEI!!" 

Kakashi spun on his heels to spot Naruto bound up the hill with grim determination set in his blue eyes. The teen's nostrils flared wildly in a sure sign that he was worked up. "I've been looking all over for you!" Naruto accused once he skidded to a halt before the jounin, then he remembered his manners to give Kanao a quick respectful bow before turning his ire back on Kakashi. "Tell me why you're marrying Iruka-sensei, and don't you _dare_ lie to me!"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Kakashi drawled as he slipped the _Icha Icha_ from his pocket. Naruto had the habit for his rants to take considerable time before he wore himself out.

"Because Iruka-sensei isn't a pervy one-eyed weirdo like YOU," Naruto said tightly as if it were a known and obvious fact. Kakashi observed blithely that the black and orange outfit that the youth favored would not look out of place in Kanao's flower garden. Naruto made a motion to recapture Kakashi's attention and gave his former squadron leader a glare that promised violence. "You'd better not try anything funny with him!"

"How do you mean?" Kakashi asked innocently as he turned a page in his book.

Naruto pointed dramatically at the _Icha Icha_ novel. "Like anything weird from THAT!"

"Why are people so quick to assume the worst of me?" Kakashi sighed, then jumped when he sensed chakra energy flare dangerously from the youth. Kakashi dropped his book in shock at the murderous intent he sensed in the boy--and focused directly at _him!_

Naruto glowered at Kakashi, a shadow clone stood behind charging a sparkling Rasengan into his palm. "Iruka-sensei is the kindest and most generous person that I've ever met, and he's the first to acknowledge me as a person!" Naruto spoke with an undertone of a primal growl and his eyes momentarily flashed crimson with the power of the Kyuubi. "If you do ANYTHING to hurt him--I _swear_ …" The unsaid threat lingered ominously in the air like a funeral knell. 

Then suddenly both the clone and the Rasengan dissolved into a puff of smoke. Naruto scratched his head sheepishly. The violent aura that had radiated from him mere moments ago had completely and utterly disappeared. "I guess that's all that I'd wanted to say," he said lightly with his usual grin. "Anyways, congratulations Kakashi-sensei! I'm very happy for both you!"

Both of the adults stared after the blonde youth as he ambled down the path to the village with fists stuffed into his pockets while whistling a carefree tune to match the song of the night birds. It was obvious to the world that Uzumaki Naruto was pleased with himself and the impression he had made on his former squadron commander and rank superior, Hatake Kakashi.

Once Naruto was safely out of sight Kanao turned to give the said man a sympathetic look. She could not entirely hide her wry amusement over the rigid expression of horror that had struck Kakashi dumb with shock. "Well now, I hope that you understand what I mean about your safety being at stake." She reached on her tip-toes to give him a motherly pat on the head, of which Kakashi did not seem to notice. "I think you need some time to think about your new perspective on things. Why don't you go get yourself a drink and do just that?"

"S-sure," Kakashi replied faintly. He started walking back towards the village (but through a different route than the one Naruto took) his legs felt a little wobbly. "I think I may need more than one drink. Maybe two." He also needed to find a dark corner to hide in as well. If Naruto was the among the first of many 'well wishers' then Kakashi might be put into an early grave before the sun had a chance to fully set.


	5. The Fine Print

"I can't wait to tell the other kids!" Konohomaru chortled as he dug his chopsticks into his bowl of _Ichiraku_ ramen for a choice slice of pork. "Kakashi-san is soooo much better than some dumb girl!" 

"Hey!" Iruka lightly smacked Konohomaru upside the head. "You know better than to say such things!" he reprimanded. "All women deserve to be treated with courtesy and respect." 

Konohomaru grumbled an apology into his soup. The newly-initiated genin had sought Iruka out the moment he had heard the news of the upcoming wedding, and Iruka had decided to indulge his nephew by inviting him along to his weekly _Ichiraku_ outing with Naruto. Konohomaru had proved to be the highlight of Iruka's hellish day. It was refreshing to see the boy view his wedding with the childish optimism of gaining the infamous 'Sharingan' Kakashi as an uncle, and not as a means of financial or political gain. The boy peppered Iruka with questions and exclamations of delight in-between bites of his dinner as they waited for Naruto to arrive. 

"Do I get to call him Uncle 'Kashi?" Konohomaru asked over a mouthful of noodles. 

"I couldn't say." Iruka smiled over his bowl. "That's a question for Kakashi to answer." 

It was at that moment when Naruto slipped into the booth with an apologetic grin. "Sorry I'm late, Iruka-sensei. Hey Konohomaru!" Naruto plopped himself next to the young boy. 

"Did'ja hear the news?" Konohamaru asked eagerly. "Iruka-sensei's getting married!" 

"Yeah I know, to Kakashi-sensei." Naruto said blandly before he turned to the chef to order his ramen. 

Iruka's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You are okay with it?" He had really thought that Naruto would go around the bend once word got out.

"Aside from him being the rudest and most perverted guy that I know?" Naruto chuckled as he broke apart his chopsticks. "Except for pervy-sage, of course!"

"That's very perceptive of you, Naruto." Iruka sighed wearily. "But Kakashi is who he is, and there's no changing that."

The corners of Naruto's mouth pulled slyly as he gave Iruka a secretive wink. "I wouldn't be too sure of that!" He folded his arms and adopted a look of a fat cat that got away with eating the canary.

Iruka carefully placed his chopsticks over the ramen bowl. His dinner churned ominously in his stomach. He knew that smug look all too well. "Is there something that you need to tell me?"

"Oh, it was nothing." Naruto waved a hand, oblivious to the deceptively calm tone in Iruka's voice. "I just had a little chat with Kakashi-sensei...you know, a man-to-man talk. I had to set a few things straight."

"You did _WHAT!?"_ Iruka knocked his bowl over as he shot straight up from his chair. Naruto's idea of 'a little chat' was usually anything but innocent. 

"Oooh!" Konohomaru exclaimed and he bounced eagerly in his seat as he urged the other boy on. "What'd ya do!? What'd ya do!?" 

"Yeah, it was pretty funny!" Naruto snickered. "I waved a Rasengan around to show that I meant business, and Kakashi-sensei was so scared he turned white as a ghost and dropped his porn!" Naruto paused to give his former teacher a concerned look. "Are you alright Iruka-sensei? You look like you need to use the bathroom."

Iruka slapped a few bills onto the counter and ignored the fact that they were about to become saturated with the remains of his dinner. "I need to go." Without further explanation he shot off down the street in search of his very likely traumatized fiancé.

Naruto gave Konohomaru a knowing look as he accepted his ramen from the chef. "Iruka-sensei must _really_ need to use the toilet. It must suck to get old!"

*~*~*~*~*~

Iruka found Kakashi after nearly an hour of intense frustrated searching. He had an inkling that the jounin would want to squirrel away at some seedy establishment barred to minors (and particularly Naruto) and he had chosen the shitty hole-in-the-wall _Nukazuke_ bar as his place to hide.

The bouncer at the door was an overweight crippled chuunin that gave Iruka a skeptical once-over before letting him pass through. It was dark and stuffy inside, and Iruka had to blink several times before his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The _Nukazuke_ was a small establishment with décor that had went out of style long before Iruka had been born, and with furniture that was ripped and stained from lack of upkeep. Graffiti of homages to lovers and elegies to lost friends covered the walls--as well as the occasional phone number for a good time. Iruka wrinkled his nose at the stale alcohol and nicotine that permeated the air, and knew that he would have to wash his clothes to get rid of the smell as soon as he returned home. It was both a disgusting and depressing place, and one where only the extreme loners and the more dangerous shinobi liked to frequent.

Iruka glided through the narrow passage of secluded booths and tables, and noted with discomfort how the room contained weapon scarring and bloodstains from bar fights that had gone violently out of control. The few patrons that peered from the shadows of their booths observed the newcomer with unblinking eyes and Iruka felt his skin crawl under their scrutiny. He was a little more than relieved when he finally spotted Kakashi sitting alone at the last booth in the back of the bar. The jounin was seated facing the entrance but did not seem to yet notice Iruka's appearance, and seemed more content to morosely stare at the table as he nursed his drink.

In a strange way, Iruka was reassured to see Kakashi so visibly glum. What he saw was not the nonchalant arrogant copy-nin but a man who was drinking his misery away as he mourned the loss of his bachelorhood. Iruka felt some of his stress dissolve now that he saw evidence of Kakashi taking their arrangement seriously, and Iruka then realized that this could perhaps be the first step for the both of them to reach a common ground. After tonight there would be only two days before they would be spending the rest of their lives together, and they _had_ to find some way to get along.

Iruka stood silently before Kakashi's booth and patiently waited to be noticed. Kakashi glanced up from his drink and then wordlessly pushed an empty cup towards his companion as an unspoken invitation. "I take it Naruto told you about our little deal?" he asked quietly.

Iruka stared at the proffered cup before giving Kakashi a skeptical look. "You were expecting me?"

"I'd figured that you'd seek me out sooner or later." 

Iruka winced as he slid into the chair opposite of the jounin. The seats were lumpy and uncomfortable. "Naruto can be a handful," Iruka said. "Even when he means well." 

"It’s alright." Kakashi shrugged. "I think him being so protective is one of his most enduring qualities." He evaded meeting Iruka's eyes and twirled the ceramic cup between his fingers. It smelled of plum brandy. "And he actually made me think about some things. After all, we are going to be living together as a _married_ couple." He emphasized the word with a drawl.

"I have been thinking as well." Iruka hesitated, then added "Actually, it's all that I could think about today. I want to discuss a few details of the contract with you."

"You're STILL upset over the amount?" Kakashi growled irritably as he clunked his cup hard on the table. He seemed to be itching for a fight.

"The money's fine!" Iruka said firmly, then gave the other man a hard look. "I meant the details that are not written on paper."

"Hm?" Kakashi blinked, not quite following.

Iruka rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "I have some conditions if I'm going to be living with you."

"Ah," Kakashi said in understanding, then propped an elbow onto the rough table to hold his chin with apparent interest. "Do tell," he urged with a touch of amusement. His previous moodiness seemed to have completely disappeared.

Iruka scowled at Kakashi. He disliked how the jounin appeared to be taking him lightly. He held up the back of his hand to show his little finger. "One. I get my own room."

"Are you sure?" Kakashi's mask pulled in a lascivious grin. "I have a _very_ big--"

Iruka cut him off "AND it will be booby-trapped while I'm asleep." 

"Really, there won't be any need for that" Kakashi grumbled, sounding put-off. 

Iruka uncurled another finger. "Two. We will both split the chores evenly and clean up after ourselves like responsible adults."

"Fair enough," Kakashi agreed. "But we can afford to hire a maid or two."

"You shouldn't waste money like that!" Iruka snapped and brandished his final finger with a glare. "Three. You don't touch me without my permission. Ever. And especially in front of other people."

"I suppose those are reasonable demands." Kakashi shifted in his chair to pour brandy into Iruka's empty cup. "But before I agree, I have a few terms of my own."

"Oh?" Iruka left the offered drink untouched and folded his arms across his chest. 

Kakashi held up a finger in imitation of the other man. "First and foremost, I get to keep my porn collection." Iruka sputtered and Kakashi added "But not out in the open." 

Stone-faced, Iruka inclined his head stiffly for Kakashi to continue. 

"Second, the ninken are allowed inside the house whenever they are around. And you must learn to love each and every one of them."

Iruka's expression relaxed. "I can live with that," he said with a smile ghosting his lips. 

It was that expression that made Kakashi impulsively switch his final demand. He could always find a new place to display his limited-edition anatomically-correct _Icha Icha_ figurines from their place of honor over the mantle. "And finally, I get to kiss you once a day."

The faint smile vanished as Iruka's face darkened. 

"At least let me enjoy this one piece of our marriage." Kakashi said quickly before the chuunin could explode. "I will only do so whenever I ask for your permission, and I promise that I will be as chaste as if I were kissing my grandmother." 

Iruka warred with himself as he chewed over Kakashi's words. The demands were really not unreasonable when compared to the jounin's disposition, and Iruka had made a big demand for his own personal room. And how harmless would a little peck on the cheek be every now and then? After a time Iruka nodded his consent. "Very well." He gave Kakashi a dark look as he picked up his drink. "As long as I have your word." 

"Ninja's honor!" Kakashi saluted. 

They hooked elbows to drink from the traditional position to seal the agreement. Iruka's eyes watered as he gulped down the brandy. Kakashi was not affected by the harsh drink, and he wiped a spilled droplet from his mask once they had untangled their arms. "Well now, it has been quite a trying day for the both of us." The chair creaked beneath Kakashi as he rose. "And since we never established when our agreement should begin...may I collect on that first kiss?"

"I knew it!" Iruka scooted backwards in his seat until his back pressed hard against the wall of the booth. He flung an accusing finger at the jounin. "You ass! I should've known there was a catch!"

"But only if I have your permission--" Kakashi glanced around the room to make sure none of the other patrons were looking, then in one fluid motion he bent over the startled chuunin until their noses nearly touched and tugged his mask free. "--like we agreed." 

Iruka gaped openly as he took in Kakashi's features for the first time. His eyes darted between Kakashi's exposed mouth and the single dark eye that was intently waiting for his response. Kakashi had a narrow face with a strong bone structure that curved gracefully into a pointed chin. His nose was slightly crooked from a past injury but it did little to mar his appearance, and neither did the wicked scar that crept from under the Hitai-ate leading to his Sharingan eye. Iruka always had a niggling suspicion that the bastard was hiding an attractive face, but never one so damnably _handsome._

To Iruka's utter mortification a deep blush that had NOTHING to do with indignation began to spread across his face. He tried to say something to fend the jounin off, but all that came out was a choked squeak. The corner of Kakashi's eye twitched at the sound. Was it Iruka's imagination, or did the copy-nin just betray nervousness? 

Kakashi couldn't help but enjoy how the blush contrasted starkly against Iruka's pale scar. He could get used to an expression like that. "Well, do I?" Kakakshi murmured, his voice had dropped to a pitch for Iruka's ears alone. 

Iruka's brain seemed to stop working, and he nodded slightly in an automatic response. Kakashi craned his neck to press his lips against Iruka's cheek in the briefest of moments before pulling back. "There." Kakashi said as he readjusted his mask. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," Iruka grumbled under his breath. Inwardly he was fuming. He was more angry at himself than at Kakashi for falling into the obvious trap. 

Catching the sensei's mood, Kakashi stepped away from the table to give Iruka more space. "I will see you tomorrow then." He abruptly turned to saunter out from the bar. The smile in his tone was unmistakable behind the mask. Iruka wearily watched Kakashi until the jounin had disappeared into the street outside. Then with a groan of dismay he covered his face in his hands. Now that bastard had an advantage over him, and Kakashi was fully aware of it and the effect his features had over Iruka. 

Iruka pulled his hands away to gingerly touch the spot where the jounin's lips had lingered. The light kiss had barely made a sound and had felt as soft as a feather. Iruka was about to marry that handsome face--and the unfortunate personality that came along with it. With another groan Iruka buried his face into his arms on the table. _'He wouldn't have offered to kiss you if he wasn't interested'_ a small voice chided in the back of his mind. But how was Iruka to know if Kakashi wasn't just toying with him? He had seen the infamous copy-nin's face, but still Iruka knew next to nothing about the man.

"That ASSHOLE!" Iruka seethed as he snatched Kakashi's abandoned bottle to pour the last of the brandy into his cup.


	6. A Wager

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me a lot more trouble than I'd thought. Thank you everyone who has reviewed and kudo'd!

Iruka was painfully aware to keep his eyes open. It was taking all of his self control to stay awake. Across the table Yukari tapped her cane over names scrawled over a diagram depicting the wedding floor plans. Truth be told, Iruka's attention was more fixed on the bare spot on the table where his tea cup had once rested. 

The sky outside the conference room had turned from the rosy hues of twilight to the deep indigo of night. The three day time limit before the wedding did not allow for a rehearsal, and as a result Iruka's entire day had been spent suffering through lessons on formal procedure and etiquette. 

He had to learn fast. Over a hundred of the Fire Nation's elite had confirmed to attend the wedding. The roster included shinobi clan leaders and nobility, including the youngest brother of the Damiyo Fire Lord, and Iruka had to memorize their full house names and titles of every single one. Iruka had dealt with enough uppity nobles to understand the political value of flowery titles and exaggerated house names, but he could not fathom as to why Yukari chose this time to lecture--of all things, the hierarchy of the guests' seating arrangements. 

Yukari's cane flicked between three names on the diagram. Iruka was conscious enough to make an agreeing sound or nod whenever he registered a break in her tone, and he idly wondered if his own students fell into a similar trance during his lectures. 

Iruka yelped as he was rudely brought back to reality by a none-too-gentle rap on the head by Yukari's mahogany cane. 

"Are you not paying attention?" Yukari demanded with a menacing wave of her cane. "The spouse to the Hatake clan leader must know these things! Otherwise you may insult potential clients inside your own home. Do you not wish for both the Sarutobi and Hatake clans to prosper?" 

"Err--sorry, Yukari-san." Iruka mumbled as he ruefully massaged his head. He ruefully eyed the mahogany cane. It was not the first time Yukari had used it. The one time Iruka had tried to wrestle the cane out from her grasp had nearly resulted with a dagger between his ribs by her Hyuuga bodyguard. The ordeal had earned Iruka a few more lumps on the head for his troubles. His one consolation was that Yukari was courteous enough not to hit him on the same spot twice.

Yukari's pale eyes bored into Iruka as she waved a hand over the seating diagram. "You are to be wed the day after tomorrow. I will no longer suffer such impudence…" She directed a disdainful snort at the empty chair next to Iruka "From either of you! Such blatant disrespect would not go unpunished in my youth--"

Iruka massaged his temples as the Nakodo continued with her rant. It did not surprise him that Kakashi had yet to return from the 'errand' that had called his fiancé away shortly after lunch. He could hardly blame Kakashi, but Iruka could not forgive the fact that in doing so had left him to deal with Yukari alone.

Yukari's tirade was abruptly cut off as the space behind Iruka's chair exploded in a cloud of teleportation's smoke. Iruka's eyes narrowed when he felt a familiar chakra presence and he turned to properly direct a scowl.

"Maa, you wouldn’t believe what happened today. I got stuck rescuing a kitten from some rabid raccoons--" Kakashi blinked through the smoke at the dark expressions focused on him. "Did I miss much?"

"You're LATE!" Iruka and Yukari cried together. 

Kakashi glanced from one to the other as if he had just stepped on hill full of angry ants. He wordlessly slipped into the chair next to Iruka and pulled a green bound _Icha Icha_ from his vest.

Yukari swelled indignantly but deigned to allow the book. She regarded Kakashi with a jaundiced eye. "I will be brief in what I must review, as the hour is late and I am in need for my bed. We shall start with the opening ceremony--"

"I've attended these types of weddings before." Kakashi said behind the book. He tapped a finger against the Hitai-ate concealing the Sharingan. "And believe me, there's no need to review the entire ceremony."

Iruka glanced at the cane quivering in the Hyuuga matron's fist. Yukari sniffed, then pointed at the scrolls spread across the table. "I suspect 'homework' is not an unfamiliar concept to you. Nearly all of Konoha's shinobi elite are to attend along with a fair number of the Damiyo's--"

"I've worked with the clan leaders at one time or another." Kakashi flipped a page. "The same goes for the nobility. There's no need to review their names." 

Iruka shot Kakashi a sour look. _'Why am I not surprised?'_

Yukari's mouth twisted as if she were holding back a vile curse. Iruka looked between the fuming Nakodo and Kakashi hiding behind porn, and prepared to leap out of the way.

Yukari cleared her throat. The action appeared to help reign her temper back to a dignified simmer. "Since there is nothing more to discuss, I have no further need of you to waste my time." The pale Hyuuga eyes slid to Iruka. "We shall continue our lessons in the morning after you've attended the seamstress to make adjustments to the wedding kimono." 

"What!?" Iruka cried with a start. "But I'm scheduled for class--" he glared at the impassive Hyuuga Matron. "And you've just _now_ decided to tell me!?" He paused when her words sunk in. "And when did I get a kimono?" 

"It was a gift from your kin." Yukari summoned her willowy attendant as she stood. The servant dutifully replaced the chair as Yukari fixed Iruka with her eerie Hyuuga gaze. "What you do outside your obligations to the wedding is none of my concern." She scowled at Kakashi who continued to read his porn. "Is there any point in asking if you need an appointment as well?"

"I fit my father's Montsuki kimono just fine." Kakashi said from behind his book. 

Yukari's finger tapped the pommel of her cane as if she were itching for an excuse to use it. "And the obi belt?" The obi for a groom of Kakashi's rank had to include his clan colors. As a male bride, Iruka would wear the custom white obi with a thin red cord to symbolize the Sarutobi clan.

"The Hatake obi was passed along with the kimono," Kakashi turned the _Icha Icha_ sideways to better appreciate the fold-out illustration. Yukari's jaw dropped at the jounin's audacity. "Is there anything else, Yukari-san?" Kakashi asked airily. "You did say that I was wasting your time." 

Iruka paled as chakra flared dangerously from the elderly woman. Yukari's face had turned an interesting shade of pink, the effect further heightened by her silver hair and lavender kimono. In the background Yukari's two attendants fell into a defensive stance with the grizzled bodyguard going so far as to unsheathe his dagger halfway. Kakashi appeared utterly unconcerned behind his book. 

"Very well." Yukari said, and her words diffused the tension in the room. Her attention narrowed on Iruka, who was the easier target between the two. Iruka jumped when the point of the mahogany cane shot across the table to jab into his chest. "As for _you,_ " Her cane jabbed again. "Your first priority should be to your clan and not to a petty chuunin job!" Yukari gave one last dismissive sniff before turning away. Iruka gritted his teeth as the proud Nakodo glided out of the room, the attendants flanking their mistress like protective hounds. 

"The--that--" Iruka bristled with righteous fury as the door clicked shut behind the Hyuuga. "The _nerve_ of that woman!" 

"Yukari must have taken a shine to you" Kakashi hummed as he refolded the illustration back into the book. "I don't think I've ever seen her happier." Iruka's answering glower caused the jounin to suddenly develop a keen interest in counting the number of cracks in the ceiling.

Iruka sank against his seat and rubbed the prominent scar across his nose. He had barely slept since the whole mess with Kakashi had started. What was he to do? He had to follow the Nakodo's orders. He will be getting a lot less sleep tonight if he had hunt down a substitute instructor for the morning. In a moment of compulsive decisiveness he rapped the table to catch Kakashi's attention. "You will cover my class."

"Hm?" Kakashi flat stare was accompanied by an arched eyebrow. "I don't think so." 

"Why not?"

Kakashi shrugged as he unhurriedly tucked the _Icha Icha_ back into his vest. "I'm no good with kids."

"You taught Team Seven." Iruka drummed his finger impatiently on the table, his eyes narrowing. "And I know for a fact that you don't have any plans tomorrow."

"Maa, and one that does not involve screaming children."

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" Iruka's pretense at civility had finally snapped. His fingers curled into a fist. "You abandoned me to that crazy old bat--" His eyes flickered to the door as if the insult would summon the Nakodo. "So you OWE me!" His agitation had not gone unnoticed by Kakashi as the jounin's eye curved with amusement, and Iruka flushed at getting caught. 

Kakashi propped one hand under his chin as if to consider Iruka's predicament. "Hm, I suppose that's true…" he drawled. "However, the balance between the situations are off. Pre-genins are a lot to handle, and Yukari-san is just one person in comparison…" 

Catching on to the implication, Iruka folded his arms across his chest with a withering glare. "Whatever it is that you want, I refuse to be involved with anything immoral or perverted."

"Why do people always expect the worst out of me?" Kakashi said with a dramatic sigh, though Iruka caught a glint of mischief in his eye. "I was only hoping to collect on that daily kiss."

Iruka gave the jounin a flat look. "You will have to earn it first." 

Kakashi blinked. The response was one that he had not expected. "Do I?" He grinned. "Iruka-sensei, I think I could really fall for you."

Iruka felt a damnable flush beginning to creep across his face. The remark had lacked Kakashi's usual tone of indifference. "Don't say such ridiculous things" Iruka scowled, struggling to maintain a hold on his irritation. "Can I count on you to be on time tomorrow?" 

"I'm one of Konoha's elite." Kakashi winked. "I can handle a few brats." 

Iruka rolled his eyes. _'We'll see about that.'_

~*~*~*~*~

Aside from the skeleton crew and overworked shinobi, the Administration Building was virtually deserted. The lower levels containing the storage and locker rooms were more so, and Iruka's footsteps echoed hollowly in the silent halls.

Iruka quickened his pace to the locker rooms. He worried his bottom lip, his thoughts dreading the morning. Kakashi was probably not the wisest choice for a substitute but Iruka could not think of anyone better to keep the volatile pre-genins in line. Iruka did not want to ponder on the worst that could happen (losing his job being the least of all) so he limited his imagination to whether or not Kakashi would keep his word to arrive. _'I just hope he can be reliable,'_ Iruka thought _'at least this once.'_

He was reaching for the door when his ears caught the murmur of voices inside the room.

"--Why should he settle for one slice when he can have the whole cake?" A voice belonging to Kotetsu said over the metallic rattle of a locker opening. "Mark my words, he will get bored before you know it!"

"Is that so?" Genma slyly drawled. "Would bet your paycheck on that?" The jounin's words slurred over the ever-present senbon.

"Are you kidding?" Kotetsu chuckled. "It would be the easiest money that I'd ever make!" 

Something inside Iruka's gut warned him to remain behind the door. He suppressed his chakra and pressed his ear against the wood.

"If you're serious…" Genma's voice lowered conspiratorially. "There's a wager going around on how long they'll last. Aiobe's taking charge of the bets, and right now the pot's over 200,000 ryo--and I wouldn't be surprised if it doubles by this time tomorrow!"

"That much?" Kotetsu whistled. "Sheesh, I'd better get in line before all the slots for this month are taken." 

"Some are betting as far ahead as six months," Genma continued, and Iruka could easily envision the jounin's grin. "But I wouldn't bet my last senbon on those odds. Hatake Kakashi, _married?_ It will be over soon, and with one lucky bastard richer from it!"

"Hey now, don't look in the mirror just yet!" Kotetsu laughed as the two headed for the door. 

Iruka retreated into an empty office before the two shinobi emerged. He waited for the chattering to recede before retrieving his satchel. Iruka marched stiffly down the halls, his thoughts echoing Kotetsu's words. 

_"He will get bored before you know it."_

A sour sensation welled in Iruka's stomach. He expected to overhear gossip at some point. Iruka and Kakashi were an odd enough pair to set loose tongues wagging, but it hurt that their comrades were making a game of their union…and that the odds were in favor for it to fail. 

_'No.'_ Iruka thought with a firm shake of his head. He had too much on his plate. He would not waste time on trivial problems, and he did not need to deal with more stress. Kakashi provided more than enough.

_"Iruka-sensei, I think I could really fall for you."_

Iruka paused in the hallway and lifted a hand to touch where Kakashi's lips had brushed the other day. His finger hovered over his cheek, and the spot faintly tingled. A new found sense of determination bolstered Iruka's resolve. Squaring his shoulders, he walked with a more confident stride. He got himself into this mess, and he will not fail in his duty to the Sarutobi clan.


	7. A Matter of Convenience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After many troubling real-life situations I'm finally back to this story (and living in Japan to boot!) Thank you ever so much for all the encouragement, reviews, kudo's and bookmarks, as they really mean a lot to me ^_^ Please enjoy chapter 7!

To the casual observer, Hatake Kakashi appeared to be ill at ease standing in the Academy courtyard filled to the brim with pre-genin students at play during the height of early-morning recess. By his rigid posture alone, one would assume that he was assessing the layout of a battlefield rather than a playground. But for those that knew the jounin well enough--or in Iruka's case, were standing close enough to see the perfect orb of white surrounding his visible eye--Kakashi had the look of an animal prepared to chew its foot free from a trap. 

It seemed like a hundred…no, a _thousand_ little throats were reverberating off the courtyard walls and into his ear canals. But the noise was nothing in comparison to the sheer amount of activity that assaulted the jounin's hyperactive senses. 

'Utter chaos' was the best phrase to describe the scene before Kakashi. Nearly forty children were practically crawling all over each other and every available space on the playground equipment. A precious few were catching up on homework or were engaged in harmless activities like cat's cradle (until Kakashi saw the strings transform into a strangling noose to trap an unsuspecting finger) though the bulk of the activity was caused by three warring teams that exchanged a barrage of folded paper shuiriken (of which Kakashi spotted the glint of sharp metal paperclips poking out from the ends) and was the source of many indignant shrieks and high pitched cackling whenever a team member scored a hit. 

Kakashi wasn't sure that he could keep track of every individual child at once, even with the help of the Sharingan. There was absolutely no method or logic to the children's movements, which vaguely reminded him of the chaos found in the midst of a battlefield. Who in the nine hells would willingly subjugate their sanity to this nightmare on a daily basis?

Kakashi's exposed eye slid wearily towards the man next to him. Iruka stood with arms crossed over his green flak vest, a single dark eyebrow raised impatiently at his jounin fiancé. He was as impassive as a statue in a raging storm; One that completely disregarded the madness around them. Oh, Kakashi had been naive to accept this 'simple' task. He ventured to lie his way out. "I think I feel my stomach cramping up--" 

"I'm sure its just gas" Iruka interrupted, seeing right through the pale jounin's ruse. His eyebrow exchanged its raised position with the other. "I thought you said 'a few brats' would be easy to handle?" 

Kakashi was hard pressed not to eat his own words so he side-stepped the veiled jibe. "Maa, controlling a three cell genin team is nothing in comparison."

Iruka considered the jounin's argument then nodded in agreement. "You have a point--" At that exact moment Iruka's fingers flashed to catch a metal shuriken before it could imbed itself into his left temple. Without missing a beat he turned to scream into the throng "KENBEI! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT BRINGING UNAUTHORIZED WEAPONS TO SCHOOL?" he turned back to Kakashi resuming his conversational tone. "Kids are really no different in a three cell team or in a full sized class such as this." Unfazed, Iruka pocketed the confiscated weapon as if his close brush with death had never occurred. 

Kakashi did not think that his eye could grow any wider than it already did. He looked between the chuunin and the pre-genins that were destined to protect the future Fire Country. This was impossible! Kakashi could not watch over this undisciplined lot without the real possibility of his ingrained shinobi reflexes taking over at the first sign of danger. These children were as fragile as spun glass in comparison to his strength, and Kakashi could not live with himself if he broke one. His feet shifted ever-so-slightly in the sand in preparation to bolt.

Iruka could tell that he was losing the jounin. Though in all honesty, he couldn't find fault in Kakashi's reaction. Most people were intimidated by large groups of unsupervised children--even more so with the shinobi variety. However, Iruka was determined for Kakashi to keep his promise for both their sakes (and he had a niggling suspicion that Nakodo Yukari herself would appear to drag him away by his ear to reach his kimono fitting appointment on time). 

The chuunin gave his fiancé one of his most encouraging smiles. "The trick is not to allow them to sense your unease" Iruka explained with forced cheer. "Luckily you are 'Kakashi of the Thousand Jutsus,' so most of the kids will pay attention to you just for that. The rest will try to test the limits of your patience, so I suggest you don't give them an opportunity for the others to follow suit."

The sensei's words made perfect sense to Kakashi. So, he had to assert his dominance as alpha. Not a particular problem for one that headed a certain pack of needy ninkin, with the exception that canines did not follow a lesson plan. "What exactly should I try to teach them?"

Iruka gave the jounin a flat look before throwing up his hands in exasperation. "You are 'Kakashi of the Thousand Jutsus!' I'm sure you have some practical skills inside that _Icha-Icha_ addled brain of yours."

Kakashi perked up. "Well, I can demonstrate how to chakra-charge paper bombs--" his words were cut off by Iruka's murderous glare. "Just kidding" he lied. 

"You'd better be," Iruka hissed as a pigtailed girl darted between the adults shrieking with laughter with a hooded girl from the Aburame insect clan following brandishing a particularly large cockroach. Iruka continued "Just remember that none of these kids are over the age of ten and are more likely to blow off a limb than a proper fire tag. There will be absolutely NO explosives involved today!" 

Kakashi was tempted to point out that he had mastered the art of chakra charging paper-bombs by the age of three--but then again, he had been a special case. In fact, Kakashi could not recall a time in his childhood that he had played with 'normal' shinobi children (he never had the opportunity, graduating the academy at age five then promoted to chuunin a year later) Human children were on an entirely different level of existence, and Kakashi was intimidated. Which was a marvel in itself, and one that he preferred not to dwell on for too long. "How long did you say that you will be gone?" he asked the sensei. It took some mild effort on his part to keep his tone sounding confident.

"I should be back before lunch break, in about three hours or so." Iruka hesitated. Kakashi's pose appeared relaxed but the single eye still had a hunted look about it. "Are you sure you will be alright?"

"Swimmingly so!" Kakashi beamed through his mask in a most unconvincing way. 

_'It's sink or swim for the both of us.'_ Iruka thought bleakly as he turned to clap his hands high over his head for attention. As if by magic the students ceased their activates in anticipation of their sensei's instructions. Iruka addressed the small courtyard in a voice that reverberated off the walls. "Today is a field day," Iruka waited a moment for the cries of delight to subside. "However, I won't be in charge today. Kakashi-sensei is your substitute teacher while I'm gone, so be nice to him and listen to everything that he has to say."

All at once the children--at first apprehensive to approach an unfamiliar adult-- swarmed over Kakashi as if Iruka's words had been a command for a squadron to charge. Iruka stepped back to observe what the jounin would do next when surrounded by the overeager little terrors.

Kakashi tried to sidestep the hoard but a student belonging to the heavy-set Akimichi clan had latched himself onto the jounin's right leg. With such a solid anchor Kakashi was helpless to deflect the bouncing children as he was assaulted by a barrage of high-pitched inane questions.

"Kakashi-sensei! What's your favorite color?" A blonde girl asked without waiting for an answer. "Mine's rainbow! Oh, please say you like rainbows! And glitter too!"

"I bet you killed a hundred thousand bad guys!" A surly looking boy said approvingly. "I'm gonna beat your record when I grow up!"

"What happened to your eye?" a freckled boy demanded. "Did you lose it in a fight?"

"Where did it go?" A girl with thick eyebrows asked. "Did you keep it in a jar? I wanna see!"

"My uncle Sasumo is in ANBU!" A sharp-faced boy with thick glasses proclaimed. "But don't tell anyone 'cuz it’s a secret!"

"Why are ya wearing a mask?" The Aburame girl asked from somewhere under her deep hood. "Is it because ya got a cold? My dad says its good to eat oranges for that."

"I like bananas! Do you like bananas Kakashi-sensei?" A girlish voice cried in the back of the crowd.

"Bananas are stupid!" an unseen boy retorted. "Melons are way better!"

"YOU'RE STUPID!" The girl shrieked.

Kakashi's brain froze temporarily at the overload of questions and grasping little hands. Honestly, these children were behaving no better than a pack of pups clamoring for attention from a den mother returning from the hunt.

Wait.

Kakashi could handle puppies. Puppies were easily controlled. Puppies were easily controlled because they were distracted by new toys. Maybe human children weren't so different, aside for a preference of playthings a bit more sophisticated than the chewing variety.

Pakkun was really going to hate him for this.

Kakashi clapped his hands high over his head in imitation of Iruka to get the student's attention. "Maa, aren't you kids lucky! I don't normally do this for any class…so who wants to see a cute talking doggie?" The jounin was not surprised to see all hands go up with nearly every student screaming their approval. Kakashi held a finger over his masked lips and at once the pre-genins went silent and still, like the good little ninjas they were training to be.

Iruka watched with baited breath as his students stepped back to give the legendary copy-nin space as he prepared a summoning circle. Summoning a pact animal was a unique treat for the children, but Iruka was not yet convinced by his fiancé's methods to leave him alone just yet.

Pakkun appeared in Kakashi's hand in a burst of white smoke. The little pug's droopy eyes widened considerably as he took in all the tiny human faces staring with barely contained excitement. "Boss, what's this all about?" Pakkun demanded uncertainly.

"I solemnly swear to treat you to a triple-stacked steak dinner." Kakashi promised before he was drowned out by the forty-something squeals of delight. Kakashi wisely held Pakkun well above the children's reach as he began a brisk jog around the courtyard with the hapless pug clinging to his palm for dear life.

Iruka watched dumbfounded as the students ran to catch up to their new sensei, completely unaware that it was all part of a ruse to warm them up for a grueling day of physical activity. Iruka exhaled a breath that he did not realize that he had been holding. He was actually impressed. The jounin had taken charge far faster than Iruka did on his first day of teaching. Perhaps Kakashi could handle his students for a few hours without a hitch

But despite his own reassurances Iruka found himself glancing over his shoulder more than once, long after the Academy was out of sight. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The unexpected calm and serenity inside Konoha's oldest kimono shop proved to be a much welcomed respite for one overstressed Sarutobi Umino Iruka. One could hear a pin drop despite the subdued chattering of the few employees scattered throughout the store. Iruka didn't mind. The change of atmosphere was soothing to his nerves after what he'd been forced to endure in the last few hellish days. For a moment he allowed his mind to 'turn off' as he visually absorbed his surroundings.

Rows of neatly folded kimonos and fabric bolts lined every wall space from floor to ceiling, displaying every color and pattern imaginable through an interpretation of brocade, satin and silk. The fabrics were organized by color and hue, and created an effect around the shop to make one feel as if they had stepped into a rainbow. The store floor held open racks of obi, which were wide fabric belts designed to wrap and tie around a kimono or summer yukata as either an complimenting or contrasting accessory. The bright weaves and elaborate embroidery of the obi reminded Iruka of a flower garden in the midst of spring.

Iruka's peaceful reverie was short lived. He bit his lower lip in exasperation when a sharp pin pricked into his left bicep, and the two female attendants continued without breaking the pace of their work. Iruka had learned long ago that they were more concerned by how the green kimono fitted over their client's body rather than the comfort of Iruka himself. It was a lot of work to be fitted, and Iruka's feet had gone numb from standing in the same spot for nearly three hours without a break. 

It was taboo for a kimono to be re-sewn or cut, so all the adjustments had to be made through cleverly disguised folds and uncomfortably placed pins to achieve a seamless natural fit. A middle-aged master seamstress oversaw the fitting as Iruka was pawed over by the two attendants, and would occasionally indicate where a discreet chalk mark for a fold should be made or an additional needle jabbed.

The chuunin ignored the abuse as best as he could, but despite all efforts his relaxed thoughts were weighed down by the reality of his wedding that was to take place the following day. In twenty three hours, forty two minutes and thirteen seconds, to be exact.

Iruka tore his eyes away from the clock resting on the cashier's desk to scowl at the heavy garment which made walking--let along breathing--difficult to properly achieve. It was beyond ludicrous for a shinobi to have his movements constricted so, and Iruka couldn't help but feel like he was in the process of being wrapped up like a gift to be given away. He forcefully pushed that thought away. If anything, Kakashi would laugh at how ridiculous he looked. A familiar vein began to pulse in his temple at the thought of the jounin around his impressionable students. 

"That should do it!" The head seamstress abruptly declared and the two female attendants leapt away from Iruka like startled birds. The seamstress' creased face held satisfaction as she rose from her chair to admire her work. Finally freed from the unwelcome hands, Iruka glanced down to get his first good look at what he wore.

His wedding kimono lacked the bells and whistles of bold fanciful prints or colorful embroidery, as it honestly did not need any embellishments. Its deceptively simple beauty resided in the craftsmanship of the silk itself--though 'beautiful' was a grand understatement. 

The silken fabric of the kimono was a spectrum of forest hues--with countless threads skillfully _woven_ together to achieve a gradient effect, and not simply dyed. The most vibrant of threads were centered around the shoulders and neckline, which evoked the emeralds of new spring leaves kissed by sunlight. The lush greens cascaded down Iruka's shoulders into a gradual transformation around his torso, of the fertile richness of dew-laden moss cooling in summer's heat. The subtle seasonal change continued until the hem of the kimono reached the floor, concluding with the near-black shade of deep winter's slumbering pine. Almost lost in the glorious silk was a chain of tiny embroidered autumn leaves lining the inner hems of the kimono's wide collar and sleeves, an intimate detail that was not meant to draw the audience away from the magnificence of the silk, but one to be appreciated privately by the wearer himself.

The impatient clucking of the seamstress' tongue brought Iruka back to the present. "Finding a suitable obi to match Haniwa silk is going to be a challenge." She snapped her fingers to summon the younger of her two attendants. "Tana, bring me sixteen of the ceramic cream obi, section 20, row 'B', numbers 42 through 58. And bring the same from row 'C' for good measure."

"Is this a special silk?" Iruka asked as he looked around the shop at the countless bolts of silk and kimonos lining every available wall space. Even to his untrained eyes he could not spot one that could remotely compare with the finery that he wore.

The older woman snorted at Iruka's ignorance before pointing a finger at the green kimono in question. 'What you are wearing, my boy, is genuine Haniwa silk made by members of the Silkmaster's Guild, which collapsed two hundred years before the first shinobi world war. It is worth three times its weight in gold, as the weaving technique for the subtle change in color has been lost to the passages of war and time." She glowered at the hapless chuunin as she took a no-nonsense lecturing tone. "Treasures such as these rarely leave a family stronghold, so I'd better not see any sake drink stains after your wedding tomorrow!" 

"N-no ma'am!" Iruka sputtered indignantly, in fact he was visibly shaken. He had no doubt that the Haniwa kimono was crown jewel of the Sarutobi family's ruined fortune, and an heirloom that no clansman would willingly part with aside from a ransom demand for the life of the Hokage himself. Sarutobi Akemi's words surfaced in Iruka's memory: _"Pomp and ceremony is expected for a son of the Hokage, and it has its role to spread word that the Sarutobi Clan is again powerful with enough wealth to spare in this wedding."_ Pomp and ceremony, indeed!

"Tut tut,' the master seamstress muttered when the requested obi wraps were finally presented by Tana, who was heavily weighed down by the fabrics. "Pristine white just won't do" she grumbled and flung a rejected obi over Tana's shoulders, careless of the fabric slapping the younger woman in the face.

"Yes, it would clash too much." The senior of the two attendants added as she assisted rifling through the obi draped over the hapless Tana. "Ah, this will do." The attendant selected an obi that was neither white nor exactly grey, but reminded Iruka of trees sheltering a patch of freshly fallen snow. As the obi caught the light he spotted veins of golden thread meandering though the silk, which glistened like frozen streams catching the rays of a morning sun. 

The head seamstress gave the other woman a tight lipped smile of approval before she motioned Iruka to lift his arms. The white obi wrapped twice around his middle before the long ends were tucked into an elaborate fold gathered in the small of his back. The final touch to his wedding attire was a crimson cord representing his connection to the Sarutobi clan, which was tied in a decorative knot in the center of the glittering obi.

"There. Now you are sight!" The master seamstress clapped her hands in genuine delight. Almost as an afterthought, she gestured for Tana to fetch a narrow full-sized mirror for her client's benefit. 

And what Iruka saw took his breath away. 

He had never considered himself particularly attractive. If anything, he had a tendency to downplay his features as 'ordinary' apart from the distinguishing facial scar over a mocha-dark complexion. But it was almost as if the ancient kimono had been crafted with Iruka in mind. Nothing about himself seemed out of place. Even the pale flesh of his scar was an intentional part of the ensemble; a natural fault found in polished wood. The expertly crafted folds of the kimono fabric did not add bulk to his figure, but emphasized the lean physique of a shinobi in his prime. The sheen of the priceless silk caught the light and held the shadows, and whenever Iruka moved the spectrum of greens seemed to dance with a life its own. 

Iruka could hardly recognize himself. What he saw in the mirror was a regal noble that had leapt out from the pages of a storybook, despite the bewildered look on his face and a disheveled drooping ponytail. Iruka was clad in a shimmering embodiment of the forest, and he was at its center. But what astounded him the most, was how _good_ he looked.

He wondered, would Kakashi still laugh at him now?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was not until Iruka had walked halfway back towards the Academy when he realized that he had forgotten the fabric swatch belonging to Kakashi’s _montsuki_ groom kimono. Iruka had no idea what use the jounin would have for it outside of their wedding, but he felt obligated to retrieve it despite the urgency to return to his class. He backtracked at a brisk pace and slowed to a walk once he reached the open double-doors of the kimono shop. He was about to slip through the curtained entrance when a scornful tenor voice belonging to Tana made Iruka freeze in mid-step. 

“--it’s a wonder that someone like Hatake Kakashi would chose such a simple man!" Tana said over the gentle rustle of folding silks. "My friend Anobe-chan told me that he hasn't left the village for anything above a D rank in two years. One would expect better from a chuunin with connections to the Hokage, other than being a full time babysitter!” 

“Oh, come off it, Tana.” A second woman sniffed. “It is not our place to decide whom Hatake-san chooses. At least Iruka-sensei seems to be stable enough.”

Tana clucked her tongue in disapproval. “But imagine one of our greatest shinobi warriors settling down with a mere school teacher--even if he is adopted into the Sarutobi clan, _Umino_ Iruka is not really one of them. There are plenty of eligible shinobi maidens of noble blood who would make a far better match with Hatake-san, and give him heirs to boot!” 

“But Iruka-sensei is good with children." A third woman joined the gossip. "My niece absolutely adored him in class. I think Iuka-sensei would be very capable as a father, and they can always adopt. It’s a real shame that he's not a woman otherwise he would be the perfect shinobi housewife.”

“A housewife indeed!” Tana snickered. “He fits that role already. Perhaps we should switch the Haniwa kimono for bridal whites for the sensei to wear…it would make their wedding night that much easier to sort out!” 

Iruka backed away from the door as the conversation dissolved into laughter. His previously light mood crushed and fabric swatch completely forgotten, he turned and stoically marched away. A hard lump had risen to stick in his throat. 

He slipped into a small urban park blessedly empty of human life. The chuunin collapsed onto a secluded bench under the sheltering shade of an oak. The afternoon sunlight dancing through the leafy canopy did nothing to warm the chill that had crept under his skin as he replayed the conversations he had overheard in both the locker room and at the kimono shop. The gossip fit as pieces into a larger puzzle, one that Iruka could easily determine the pattern. After all, he'd been hearing snippets throughout most of his adult life.

Umino Iruka was an unremarkable orphan boy who had the good fortune to be adopted into the Sarutobi clan, and he had repaid his prestigious family's generosity by aspiring to be nothing more than a desk-bound chuunin whose skills did not go far beyond that of a mother hen. And now, the uninspiring Umino Iruka has been betrothed to _the_ Hatake Kakashi, a living legend respected throughout the Fire Country as a renowned warrior and scourge of many unfulfilled Bingo books. 

It was little wonder that people thought Kakashi could do better in a marriage contract. Now that Iruka could objectively look at himself, he was hardly of any worth in comparison to his betrothed. Iruka was utterly overshadowed by Kakashi’s reputation and prowess. 

Hunched over with elbows resting on knees, Iruka tried to quell his rising anxiety as the enormity of his fate came crashing down over his head. Ever since he had came of age he had lived independently from the Sarutobi clan to ease their financial burden and to make a life on his own. His apartment and living conditions were far from ideal, but it was a comfortable setting that Iruka had worked hard for and belonged to him alone. Tomorrow, everything he had struggled to achieve will be going down the drain as a down payment for an uncertain future. 

Iruka squeezed his eyes shut before his emotions threatened to spill. He had told himself to expect overhearing gossip, but he had never considered how deeply mere words could stab into his pride. Iruka had a brief flash of himself dressed in a traditional bridal kimono, with a pristine bridal cloak pulled over bound hair adorned with kanzashi ornaments, his eyes cast down in a perfect display of submission. Tana's mocking laughter echoed in the back of his mind _“It would make their wedding night that much easier to sort out!”_

 ***CRACK***

It took a moment for Iruka to register that his fist had slammed into the bench. Blood trickled under his curled fingers to seep into the cracks splitting the wood. The pain stemmed his tears before they could flow. He absolutely _refused_ to break down. And here he was actually starting to look foreword to this farce of a ceremony. At that moment Iruka almost wished that he had never accepted the invitation to join the Sarutobi clan in the first place.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Iruka's dark mood had hardly improved once he returned to the Academy. His first hint that something was amiss was in the form of uncontrollable childish laughter drifting over the walls of the Academy courtyard from the training fields beyond. With impending dread the chuunin broke into a run and leapt over the high walls to discover, without any surprise, Hatake Kakashi at the source. And what Iruka saw sent his temper through the roof.

His fiancé was using himself and two shadow clones as living targets against rotating teams of pre-genins, who tried to score a hit with a bombardment of arsenal, undoubtedly provided by the jounin himself, which ranged from ordinary rocks and crude wooden spears to sharp metal shuriken and kunai. None of the children possessed the skill to actually hit the copy-nin himself, but the students were shrieking with wicked delight at the opportunity to throw real weapons at a human target.

Iruka put a stop to it with his mere presence alone. The children's laughter died in their throats the moment they spotted their sensei. Most threw down their weapons, but a few even went so far as to guiltily hide them behind their backs. Kakashi sensed something was awry and his two clones disappeared in a puff of smoke. With folded arms Iruka strode into the midst of his class and glowered his displeasure. Not a single student dared to meet his eyes.

One of the bolder pre-genins decided to speak for the class' behalf. "Um, Kakashi-sensei said it was okay--"

"Inside. NOW!!" Iruka bellowed before the child could finish. He had honestly expected more from his students, and his face was a stony mask of disapproval as the children literally fled into the Academy classroom, where further punishment awaited to be dealt by their sensei's wrath.

"Wasn't that a little harsh?" Kakashi drawled close behind Iruka. "We were just playing a game."

"A game?" Iruka snarled as he rounded on the culprit. "Do you have any idea of what you've just undone?" he grated. "You've just destroyed _everything_ that I've been trying to instill about responsibility. Children are not at all like adults--they're _always_ pushing boundaries to see how far they can go!" Iruka's eyes flashed as he advanced on the taller man with trembling fists curled at his sides. "How in the hell am I going to explain to a parent why their child thought it acceptable to play with weaponry outside of school, which can result in killing the family cat--or at worst, a younger sibling!" Iruka spat out his last sentence "Would you think it’s a fucking game then, Hatake?"

Kakashi had taken several steps back from the sheer vehemence emitting from the normally placid chuunin. But even more so, Kakashi was taken aback by the gravity of his error. He had forgotten how irresponsible children could be when it came to common sense, and he truly regretted his lack of judgment. "I'm sorry, I've should have realized---"

"Well, you didn't!" Iruka snapped. The last shreds of control over his temper had flown through the roof and out the window. "You never take anything seriously. Do you even care about this wedding, or is it just another 'game' for your amusement?" Iruka stepped close to the immobile jounin until their noses nearly touched. "I will not be taken advantage of, just because I'm convenient!"

Kakashi's visible eye had narrowed into a sharp point. "You're one to talk" he scoffed. "You should know all about convenience since you're marrying me for money."

Hostility radiated in almost tangible waves from the two men as they stared each other down. Iruka was at a total loss for words from the stark truth presented before him, and was the first to avert his gaze. Kakashi felt his chest constrict upon seeing Iruka's unexpectedly bleak expression, who's temper had deflated with all the speed of a pricked balloon. Kakashi was of the habit to bite back at an aggressor whenever he was backed into a corner, but the defeat shadowing the younger man's eyes had set off every alarm in his head. He tried to salvage the situation with an apology. "Iruka, I'm--"

"Don't." Iruka whispered with a soft shake of his head. "Just…don't." He could not meet his fiancé's gaze, so he turned his back on the jounin. His tone was businesslike and void of emotion "It was unfair of me to have expected anything from you to begin with."

Kakashi could only watch with a sinking heart as his betrothed walked away without sparing the jounin a single glance back. A spark of panic began to grow deep within the copy-nin's heart. This was the worst possible way imaginable to start off a marriage, even if it was a contracted one. And Kakashi had absolutely no idea how to fix the situation without serious repercussions that could last either of their lifetimes.

He needed help. Desperately. Perhaps a particularly observant ANBU comrade could shed some light on his dilemma, though Kakashi abhorred the thought of owing his kohai anything more than a few rounds of potent drinks. Even so, the copy-nin counseled himself that it was all for the noble cause of love and peace. 

Even a disreputable scoundrel like himself deserved a slice of marital bliss, and Kakashi was determined to offer Iruka the entire cake.

**TBC**


	8. Accommodations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has left kudos and especially comments! Every single one is dear to me. I couldn't leave the last chapter as it was, so here's the next part! The wedding is to follow ^_~

Iruka had declined every offered invitation to celebrate his wedding on the last night of his bachelorhood. He honestly wasn't in the mood for company other than himself. Besides, he had to pack up his studio apartment. He was due to move into the Hatake estate directly after his wedding ceremony had concluded. It was one among the many ridiculously out-of-date bridal traditions Nakodo Yukari had seen fit to uphold. 

It had taken Iruka less than an hour to pack his things. It was almost depressing how the entirety of his life could fit into a single cardboard box, and not a full one at that. Now he sat pressed against a whitewashed corner of a vacant box that he had once called home, where every sound echoed in a space that was smaller than what Iruka had remembered when he had first moved in. Iruka's emptied home matched the hollow feeling inside his chest. Tonight was the last that he would spend in his old life, and the heated encounter with Kakashi earlier that day had cast a bleak outlook on the future ahead.

It was difficult to recall that only a few days ago Iruka's greatest concerns had involved waking up on time for work and finishing a good novel between his two jobs. How quickly can one's priorities change, and how rapidly can one's world get turned upside down.

Inside the cardboard box was a moth-eaten yellow sweater, reverently folded inside its own special cedar wood box. It was Iruka's most treasured possession. His childhood home had been destroyed in the Kyuubi attack and it alone was the only memento he had left of his parents. Iruka's mother had knitted it for his father, who had stored the sweater in his locker on that fateful night before they were both ripped out from their child's life.

A small collection of photographs and books accompanied the cedar box, as well as some knick-knacks and decorative pottery gifted by Iruka's adopted clan. The rest of the items were spare work uniforms and a faded blue summer yukata, as well as a few articles of civilian clothing that Iruka hardly ever bothered to wear.

Iruka had taken one look inside his fridge before dumping everything into the trash. He had set aside a small fortune to treat himself to some high quality shoyu sauce to enhance his meager meals, but he saw no point in saving a half emptied bottle of condiments. He had thrown away all household essentials or had set them aside for charity, he did the same for the few pieces of hand-me-down furniture that had once furnished his apartment. Kakashi would have everything already provided to upkeep his lavish home, and undoubtedly of superior quality than what the chuunin had collected over the years from the discount rack. 

Iruka was bringing nothing of himself into his new home other than a single box of faded memories. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

With nothing else to occupy his time Iruka prepared himself for bed. He turned off the lights of his uprooted home and slipped under thin blankets over his worn futon in anticipation of the sleep that would elude him. Curled into a tight ball, he laid staring into the dark as troubling thoughts raced in circles though his mind. Iruka had never before felt isolated living by himself. Now he had never felt so alone. 

~*~*~*~*~

It was a bustling Friday night in the downtown district of Konoha village. It was payday for the shinobi residents, and as a result the drinking establishments were especially rambunctious. It was past nine o'clock and the district was at the height of activity, and the moderately sized _Mori Gari_ bar was packed to the brim with off-duty shinobi in various stages of drunkenness. A thin haze of tobacco smoke floated above the majority of patrons that had been forced to stand with drinks in hand, as the fortunate few who had arrived early enough to snag a seat were reluctant to vacate their claimed territory. The wail of a shakuhashi bamboo flute accompanied by a biwa mandolin pieced the din, though one would suspect that the musicians were as inebriated as the rest of the patrons that tried to converse over their sad attempt at music.

The jovial atmosphere only added to Hatake Kakashi's black mood. He preferred dive bars where he wouldn't be bothered by excessive noise or unwelcome elbows poking into his personal space. It was just his luck that a particularly large squadron had returned from a faraway mission that day, and had headed to the this particular watering hole as soon as their reports had been turned in. 

The jounin shifted uncomfortably on his lumpy barstool seat as he attempted to nurse his drink through discreet sips under his mask. His comrade had claimed that the _Mori Gari_ bar had the best plum brandy in town, though Kakashi thought that it was sub par at best. Although, his temperament might have soured his taste buds a bit. 

The comrade in question, one named Tenzou Yamato, had already sampled three glasses of the potent brew. "I'd never heard of pre-genins using live weapons against a substitute teacher," Tenzou said with a chuckle as he placed his empty glass onto the bartop. "I wished I could have been there to see the look on Umino's face when he caught you in the act!"

"Trust me, it was _not_ pretty." Kakashi grumbled as he dragged a finger through some spilled liquor. "That man hides a sharp tongue behind a smile."

"Well, you were intruding his territory, in a way." Tenzou observed as the bartender refilled amber liquor into his glass. The wood-nin's wide pupils were intensely sharp as he studied the silvered haired copy-nin, despite the red flush across his cheeks. "I think being a teacher is his calling and from what I hear he's better at it than most."

"I've heard something like that." Kakashi's mask pulled into a scowl as he began to trace patterns into his puddle. "I honestly thought that we would be getting along better, since we got Naruto and the duty to our clans in common…" he wrinkled his nose. "But everything I do or say ends up pissing him off in the worst possible way. I can't read what he wants out of me!" The liquid beneath Kakashi's fingertip had transformed into a crude face with a distinct scar in place of a nose. Kakashi scrubbed the picture away with the palm of his gloved hand and his shoulders slumped as he stared morosely at the ruined puddle. "I just don't see how this is going to work."

Tenzou took a pull from his drink to give himself a moment to think. The wood-nin prided himself as a keen observer of human behavior, and despite his senpai's flaws Tenzou greatly respected Kakashi and considered him a close friend. "Have you ever tried putting yourself in Iruka's shoes?" he asked over the rim of his glass. "You have been thinking about accepting a marriage contract for some time, but Iruka has had it shoved down his throat in just a matter of days."

He could tell by Kakashi's silence that he'd captured the other man's attention. It was rare for the self-absorbed copy-nin to seek advice, but Tenzou could sense when the jounin wanted some--and Kakashi was among the few that could eat it coldly served. "I'm sure you realize that a contract written on paper is not a guarantee for a successful marriage between strangers. Although you both snap at each other, I suspect there's potential..." Tenzou signaled the bartender for a whole bottle of the plum brandy in anticipation that it would be needed before the night was through. He emphasized his next words with a knowing drawl. "...Especially since you actually _like_ like him…" 

Kakashi's head jerked up. "How did--!?" The unmasked eye was aghast with disbelief. 

Tenzou was hard pressed not to burst out laughing at the almost comical expression stamped across his senpai's face. He shot his companion a sly smirk instead. "Believe me, you are _both_ putting off the signs, though you are both equally as dense to realize it." Tenzou allowed himself the luxury of a moment to bask in his senpai's astonishment before taking the rare opportunity to add salt to his already wounded pride. "And you have been an asshole to him. Really, demanding 'a kiss a day' in your contract? Did you honestly expect that would force him like you more?"

Kakashi squirmed in his seat. He wholeheartedly regretted disclosing that little bit of his foolishness. "So what of it?" he growled in an attempt to divert the conversation. "What would you have done in my place?" 

"Me?" Yammato said blithely as he examined the fingernails of one hand. He picked at a hangnail like a cat preening its fur. "I'd appeal to his interests." 

Kakashi had to steel himself for patience. Clearly, his kohai was enjoying holding the upper hand on him. For once. 

The wood-nin continued "From what I can tell, most successful marriages function a lot like roommates--albeit they share the same bedroom, each do better as a unit if they have a piece of territory to call their own." Tenzou put down his hand. His prior amusement was replaced by grim seriousness. "From what you've told me, Iruka's entire world has just been turned upside down and at the current state of things he's about to move into enemy territory. What he needs most from his partner--his _spouse,_ is for you to be accommodating during this transition. Between the two of you, Iruka has sacrificed the most all for the sake of duty. So try not to be bitter with him, senpai, but do try to let Iruka realize that your home is a safe place and one that he can flourish as his own person."

Kakashi stared at Tenzou as if the wood-nin had sprouted a summer bouquet of flowers through his ears, complete with buzzing bees and chirping birds fluttering about his head. The world must have turned on its head if 'Tenzou Yamato' was its leading expert on marital advice. Kakashi hastily downed his brandy in a single eye-watering gulp before replying with a snort. "Hmph. They don't write about that in _Icha Icha Paradise._ "

"Too mundane, I think." Tenzou agreed, secretly smug with himself at the effect he had made on the reclusive copy-nin. Tenzou lifted the bottle of plum brandy before the said man could withdraw back into himself. "Want another?"

"You've read my mind," Kakashi grinned as Tenzou refilled their glasses. The two men were rudely interpreted before they could clink glasses by a dark haired kunoichi who had stumbled to sharply elbow Kakashi in the back.

"Oops, clumsy me!" The kunoichi cried delightedly with feigned surprise. "Oh, if it isn't Kakashi-senpai!" She pressed her full bosom against the immobile copy-nin's back. "It's been so long since I've seen you around the _Mori Gari,_ and I've missed you!" Kakashi recognized the woman as Mizuho Takako, a regular of Konoha's downtown district. Contrary to Takako's proclaimed 'clumsiness' she was able to sway gracefully on high stiletto heels without apparent concern of breaking an ankle.

"Careful, Takako." A burly jounin with sake stains over his flak-vest appeared behind the kunoichi, laughing "Don't go wrecking any marriages before they start!"

"Yeah, he's gonna get hitched tomorrow!" A thin shinobi added as he struggled to maintain a hold on his sake cup. 

"That's right," the unnamed jounin agreed with a smirk. "And to none other than that chuunin-sensei, but don't ask me why!" 

"Its because he's adopted by the Sarutobi clan, that's why!" A third voice added as more of the squadron gathered around to partake in the discussion. 

"Then that's even more reason to celebrate," Takako purred into Kakashi's ear as she slipped uninvited into his lap. Takako fluttered her green eyes alluringly. "And Kakashi-senpai can always find me if the chuunin-sensei is too _boring."_

Kakashi was keenly aware of Tenzou observing the spectacle from the sidelines. The wood-nin watched from the corner of his eye without interference to whatever path the jounin chose next. Kakashi could only scent cheap alcohol under the kunoichi's even cheaper perfume, among other things that went against his nature. He wrinkled his nose in disgust "No thanks, Takako-san." He tried to pry the woman off his lap. "I'm more of the 'traditional romantic type' when it comes to that sort of thing." When Takako made a petulant sound of protest Kakashi used a more direct tactic. "I'm sure that your husband feels the same way?"

The kunoichi scampered off Kakashi's lap as if she had sat on hot coals. Red-faced with humiliation, Takako disappeared into the crowd. Her one-time companions laughed uproariously at her expense.

"That's the way to keep 'em in line!" The burly jounin said as he slapped Kakashi approvingly on the back, and completely failed to notice the dark look that crossed the copy-nin's face. Tenzou wisely nudged his drink aside to a safe distance.

"I don't get it! Why _Umino_ Iruka?" The thin shinobi declared as he carelessly slopped his drink. No doubt his inebriated state emboldened his nerve to address Kakashi directly. "Maybe _you_ can tell me what's so special about him. I wanna know the secret!"

"He thinks he's so much better than us!" A voice cried from the squadron. "Getting adopted by the Hokage himself!" 

"That stuck-up chuunin is just a tight ass pencil-pusher, that's all!" Another shinobi slurred angrily as he swayed on his feet. "Not even a proper shinobi if you ask me." 

"I'm sure there’s ONE thing he's good for!" The burly leader of the squadron leered as he made an obscene hand gesture. "Fucking that tight ass until he screams for you to stop!" The comment resulted in another drunken roar of boisterous laughter.

"Could you all please speak a little louder?" Kakashi asked when there was a lull in the hilarity. "I'm sure all of Konoha would like to hear more about my _husband_ you are discussing." 

The flat statement instantly killed the squadron's mirth. Even through their drunken haze the group could sense the deadly aura that emitted from the legendary 'Sharingan' Hatake Kakashi, and more than one shrank back upon the realization of how far they've overstepped. 

"Well?" Kakashi asked the unfortunate group as he rose from the barstool to take full advantage of his height. "I myself would be very interested to hear more…" His dark eye caught a wicked gleam in the florescent lights. "…but I can't promise to like what you have to say."

Half a heartbeat later found the immediate space around Kakashi utterly vacant aside from Tenzou Yamato chortling gleefully into his glass. "Never have I've seen a Konoha squadron retreat so fast!" Tenzou sniggered. "Senpai sure has a special way with words!" 

Kakashi waved aside the offer for a victory drink. "I really should turn in for the night." 

"What for?" Tenzou protested. "It's not even past ten o'clock!"

"I need to go 'accommodate' some things." Kakashi replied with a secretive wink. He needed to have a clear head for the rest of the evening. There was much he had to do before the night was through, with only twelve hours to spare before his nuptial arrangement with the chuunin-sensei was to commence. Kakashi disappeared from the bar in a puff of teleportation smoke, leaving a generous tip for the plum brandy and a mystified wood-nin behind.

 


	9. The Happiest Day of Our Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who had left kudo's and comments!! I whipped up this chapter faster than I had anticipated. The wedding ceremony described is loosely based on a traditional Japanese wedding, for those more knowledgeable 'loosely' is a term that fits it best. Please enjoy!
> 
> *Update*  
> Extra special thanks to [_Eggelo_](http://eggelo.tumblr.com/) for the gorgeous fanart based on this chapter! Please scroll down to see!

"Why did I ever think that getting married was a good idea?" Kakashi grumbled at his reflection in the full length mirror. He was garbed in all the trimmings of his family's _Montsuki_ kimono which had been passed down through four generations of leading Hatake clansmen. Kakashi's sullen expression glared right back at him from the walnut mounted mirror. "I look like my father in _his_ wedding photo." 

"It is to be expected." Maito Gai gently patted Kakashi's shoulder, keeping in mind not to dent the folds that he had painstakingly sculpted in the mid-length blue overcoat. The taijutsu master included formal kimono wear among his repertoire of specialty skills. Gai continued with his REASSURING SPEECH "Especially since your father donned the very same outfit on his wedding day!"

"Not helpful, Gai." Kakashi growled with an undertone of warning. The copy-nin could hardly refuse Maito Gai's tearful request to assist dressing him on his wedding day, and the jounin had readily agreed than have a stranger roaming their hands over his unprotected back. Though now, Kakashi had developed a headache from the glare reflecting off his rival's lime-green kimono, which sported a tasteless metallic print of flying shuriken and kunai knives.

The most prominent feature of Kakashi's _Montsuki_ grooms-wear were the pinstripe wide-legged hakima trousers tied high above his waist over a silvery kimono, and stopped just short of reaching his ankles. Kakashi's feet were encased in ankle-high tabi socks woven from breathable white silk and split through the toes for the straps of his woven hemp sandals to easily slip through. A loose wide-sleeved midnight blue overcoat completed the ensemble along with a thin obi over the silver kimono peeking above the hakima trousers, which depicted the Hatake clan colors in stiff alternating lines of navy blue and grey. 

Kakashi's features were hidden under his usual facial mask and metal Konoha hitai-ate over the Sharingan eye, but what possibly peeved the jounin the most about his appearance was his hair, which had been slicked with gel in effort to tame the unruly spikes into one congealed mass. A few stray locks stuck up in defiance to the natural order of things and were a reflection of the copy-nin's bristly mood.

"Complaining that you look like 'The White Fang' won't change the fact that you are still his son," Morino Kanao reprimanded over a pilfered bowl of tsukimono vegetables, of which she delicately picked at with her favorite pair of chopsticks. It was little surprise to either men that the retired ANBU interrogations operative was able to slip unnoticed into the groom's dressing ward and snag a free meal along the way. Kakashi's longtime neighbor was always the first to reach the buffet table whenever a free meal presented itself, as testament to her plump figure. Kanao shot Kakashi a grin over a mouthful of pickles. "You are now ready to attend the ceremony." 

"I've been ready for the last two hours!" Kakashi complained. His hand strayed to ruffle his silvery mane back into its usual mussed state and he yelped when the old woman shot up from her seat to rap the jounin's knuckles with the blunt ends of her chopsticks, which were Kanao's preferred weapon of choice.

"None of that now," she warned. "Especially after the sizable fortune of hair product Gai-san has just invested over your ungrateful head." Kanao adjusted the maple brown kimono over her stout figure before resettling back into her stool, which was wedged between the wall and the folding room dividers inside the tiny dressing room. The embroidered silk-screen dividers displayed bright red chrysanthemums symbolizing the flower of the groom. Kakashi eyed the old woman as he ruefully rubbed his smarting hand. He had to take care to remember that the old biddy was a lot quicker than what she permitted the outside world to believe.

Gai licked the pad of one thumb with the intent to smooth down those rebellious hair strands. To Kakashi's chagrin he was forced to remain still under Kanao's watchful eye as his long-time rival plastered MANLY saliva over his head. Kakashi vented his frustration by tugging at the stiff collar of his silver kimono, grouching "This is a horrible thing to wear in humid weather." 

"Even burdened by discomfort, I only hope to look as HIP and COOL on my wedding day!" The Green Beast's eyes glittered with ANTICIPATION of the day he would tie the knot with an unsuspecting kunoichi, who would no doubt be showered with Maito Gai's undying LOVE and AFFECTION until her dying day. Kakashi could only pity that nameless woman, whomever she was.

Not for the first time he wondered how Iruka was faring. No doubt the chuunin-sensei was just as eager to get over with this wedding as much as Kakashi was. It was nine o'clock in the morning and the long day was only just beginning.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Iruka sat very still as Sarutobi Akemi applied the final touches of foundation to hide the dark bags under his eyes. As the chuunin had predicted, he was unable to sleep a wink the night before he was to be ceremoniously 'given away' to Hatake Kakashi. 

Sometime during the night a cold numbness had appeared within his chest to smother thought and emotion, and was a welcomed companion as Iruka went through the mechanical motions of shrugging into his bridal wear before kneeling on a rose colored cushion for his aunt to provide the final preparations. He stared at a fixed point above his aunt's bound white hair where he could not glimpse the concern that creased her aged face. Iruka had barely spoken more than a few words since Akemi had appeared at morning's first light to escort him to the ceremonial ward of the Administration Building. She had attempted to coax her nephew out of his mood but gave up upon the realization that he had withdrawn into himself. 

Akemi did not counter Iruka's silence when she removed the Konoha hitai-ate from his forehead. It would not be a part of his wedding ensemble, and Iruka felt somewhat naked without it. She had then combed his hair into its usual style with the addition of an ivory kanzashi comb in place of an elastic tie. It was a family heirloom personally presented by Akemi, who did not seem to take offence of Iruka's stiff nod in acknowledgement to her gift. 

The lower lid of Iruka's right eye twitched as the sable hairs of the make-up brush tip hit a sensitive spot, a deliberate motion made by his aunt to force her adopted nephew to meet her gaze. Iruka countered the move by directing his eyes to the white chrysanthemums that embroidered the silk screen room dividers, which were the symbolic flower of the bride. 

Iruka found that his precious feeling of apathy was growing harder to cultivate as the hour of the ceremony drew near. A niggling worm of dread had began to fester in his gut. For better or worse, his life was about to forever change.

The Sarutobi clanswoman rose from her knees in an unspoken signal that her preparations were complete. Iruka gracefully followed suit to regard his reflection in the mounted mirror. The shimmering green Haniwa kimono was as magnificent as the day before, even more now that Iruka was garbed in finery down to his toes, which were incased in silken tabi socks clad over black lacquered sandals. Iruka's blank expression stared back at him through the mirror. The magic of the forest hued Haniwa kimono was gone. Rather, he felt like a cheap dessert covered in expensive frosting, and Iruka was the unappetizing cake.

Akemi finally broke the silence between them with a gentle caress of weathered fingers brushing against the chuunin's cheek. "Iruka-kun, my heart." The noble lines of Akemi's faded beauty was desperately trying to elicit an emotional response. Her gentle eyes met that of her nephew, who was like a son to her in all but blood. "There is still a choice." 

As if Iruka really had one at this point. Not with the Damiyo's courtiers anticipating the lavish feast after the ceremony. It would be political suicide for the adopted son of the Hokage to deprive them of _that_ worldly pleasure.

"It's okay, Obasan. Really." The forced smile felt tight on the corners of Iruka's lips. "I'm determined to see my duty through for the sake of our clan." 

Iruka wondered if anyone else would notice the false warmth behind his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~

An hour later, both Iruka and Kakashi found themselves seated next to each other in the middle rung of a three tiered ceremonial podium. The podium was where the marriage ceremony was to take place, and overlooked a reception room teeming with over a hundred of the Fire Country's most established and elite. While a typical wedding would celebrate the merging of two families, a noble shinobi wedding reflected on the union of two clans tying themselves to country and Damiyo. A consequence was that no personal friends or relatives of the bride and groom could attend the ceremony, save for those that fell under that category. 

Five long rows of highly polished wooden tables were spread across the length of the room, arranged vertically so that each guest could witness the event without hindrance. A tasteful display of red and white chrysanthemums centered each table, along with sake flasks and pots of tea to encourage a polite buzz of conversation to float above the room. Comfortable cushions were provided for each of the guests, though the seats closest to the podium were reserved for the attending Konoha councilmen and highest ranking courtiers. 

The Damiyo's youngest brother and his beautifully painted wife were privileged the best seats in the house. The esteemed nobles displayed an air of bored indifference as they cooled themselves with glittering fans to deflect the humid air as well as clan elder Sarutobi Eiji, who did not seem to mind carrying a one-sided conversation in his ancient quivery voice. The courtiers scattered about the room were bedecked in a dazzling display of flamboyant courtly fashion, and resembled a flock of peacocks stuck in a coop of blandly dressed chickens--though feral shinobi chickens, at that. 

On either side of the marital couple sat two of their family representatives. To Iruka's left was his foster father Sarutobi Hiruzen Sandaime Hokage and younger sister Sarutobi Akemi. To Kakashi's right was Nakodo Hyuuga Yukari and her son and clan leader Hyuuga Hizashi. It was stated in Kakashi's contract to disallow members of his blood relatives to attend the ceremony, which was a deliberate snub on the jounin's part. It was a condition Yukari had graciously allowed on the terms that she and her son would sit in their place. Even if the Hyuuga clan could not marry into the Sarutobi family, their mere presence sitting with the Sandaime Hokage on the marriage podium carried significant political weight.

A steady stream of guests had lined before the Hokage's side to formally express their congratulations. Unlike a traditional wedding where a reception directly followed the ceremony, a high ranking shinobi union allowed the guests to present their offerings first as part of an ancient custom to proclaim loyalty to the families that were about to be joined. Before the podium was a low table for the guests to display their wedding gifts in a neat stack that was increasingly growing, the bulk of which were more symbolic than functional as pertaining to tradition. 

The Damiyo's brother and his fellow courtiers had been the first to present their congratulations to the honored couple, though a small group had lingered when it was the shinobi clansmen's turn to present their gifts. The courtiers had sprung at the opportunity to engage the Hokage and his sister in light political matters. It was first among many informal meetings that were to occur throughout the day to cement future transactions between the nobility and the Sarutobi clan. The councilmen delicately brushed against the topic of Iruka's dowry, which was a major factor in the negotiations. The long line of Konoha clansmen wordlessly stepped around the courtiers to present their offerings before attendants escorted them to their designated seats and the refreshments that awaited them.

None of the guests appeared to have noticed that both bride and groom had been pointedly avoiding each other ever since the reception ceremony had begun. Iruka had only spared Kakashi a single withering glance before stiffly settling onto his ceremonial cushion. Kakashi had returned the chuunin's dismissive gesture with a muffled huff of exasperation before dropping into his seat. Both had enough on their plates to occupy their attentions, as it was Iruka's bridal task to personally greet every guest and the gifts presented to them. Kakashi only had to return the formality with a mere dip of his greased head. 

It had not slip past Iruka's notice that the more prominent guests--the Damiyo's family included, had completely overlooked the chuunin when presenting their congratulations to Sandaime Hokage and the infamous Hatake Kakashi. The marriage was in essence a political and monetary transaction to bolster the standing of two powerful shinobi clans, but it did not lift Iruka's mood to be treated as if he were an inconsequential aspect of the ceremony; of no more importance than one of the chrysanthemum bouquets displayed throughout the room.

  
  
_Fanart by_ [_Eggelo_](http://eggelo.tumblr.com/)

That niggling worm which had infected Iruka's apathy had sprouted into a snake writhing in his gut. The source of his anxiety's violent growth spurt was rooted in the quiet bickering between Kakashi and Nakodo Yukari, which had began since the pair had settled next to each other at start of the ceremony. Kakashi took great delight in needling the old woman when the jounin knew that he could safely get away with it. Hyuuga Hizashi appeared to either take no notice or interest of the exchange, and was occupied with sweeping the reception room with sharp pale eyes that were alert to spot anything amiss. Iruka tried his best to ignore what he was overhearing, and he fervently hoped that nobody else caught what he heard.

"I can see how you can get off on dry formal affairs such as this, Yukari-san" Kakashi murmured. "It truly suits your winning personality." The jounin paused to respectfully bow before the fierce Inuzuka Tsume presenting a braided cord of Shiraga hemp, symbolizing strong family ties and marital union. The kunoichi's sharp canines peeked through a smirk at the sight of the copy-nin's over-greased silver mane, and Kakashi returned her expression with a deadpan one-eyed glare. He continued once the highly amused Inuzuka clansman had left. "Though if I had my way, there would be a line of half naked choir girls dancing up the aisles to help 'shake' things up!" 

"And what a fiasco that would be," Hyuuga Yukari hissed from the side of her mouth. "Since half of the elderly courtiers attending today would drop dead from a heart attack at the mere sight of a bared ankle. No, I doubt that the Damiyo's brother would look kindly upon that." 

"Really? I would assume that arranging funerals would be more to your style" Kakashi said under his breath as the yellow haired leader of the Yamanaka clan presented an oversized Suehiro fan to represent marital bliss. "Though I fear that the corpse would be the only one having a good time." 

The pale Hyuuga eyes flashed at the impetuous copy-nin. "Then you best take care, as I am looking forward to the day when I can arrange yours." 

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, Yukari-san? I think you have one foot in the ground ahead of me." Kakashi bowed before the heavy-set Akimichi leader presenting a satchel of dried bonito flakes for an everlasting marriage. "I'll be sure to remember to bring an entire squadron of choir girls when I'm dancing over your grave." 

Yukari's shot the copy-nin a dignified toothy grin. "And I'll be sure to remember to exempt you from the open bar in my will." 

"Maa, I like a woman who plays dirty," Kakashi said under a suggestive wiggle of an eyebrow.

Iruka's forced smile had widened until he was almost certain that the top half of his head would detach under the strain. Apparently it was too much to hope that his spouse-to-be would behave himself around the uppity Hyuuga Matriarch. At least none of the other guests seemed to have taken notice of their subdued exchange, most especially Sandaime Hokage, who along with Akemi were currently occupied by a particularly persistent councilman who was all but demanding to know the exact monetary amount of Iruka's dowry. 

The hulking form of Morino Ibiki appeared as a menacing shadow over the table. The commander of Konoha's torture and interrogation force donned a smile that was quite out of place under his prominent battle scars. His mother Morino Kanao's smile was a mirror image to that of her son, with the exception that her smile was made even more unsettling over plump grandmotherly features. She bowed before Iruka and especially to Kakashi, who returned a friendly wave to his long-time neighbor. Kanao gifted the couple a decorative satchel containing red and white chrysanthemum flower seeds, which had been harvested by hand from her flower garden. 

"However you want to paint this union, it is doomed to fail if you do not follow proper custom" Yukari whispered once the Morino clansmen had been escorted to their seats. "The simple act of marriage will not erase the Hatake clan's disgrace overnight."

"You are free to inform the esteemed nobility where they can shove my disgrace. Specifically to where the sun doesn’t shine." Kakashi replied airily. His uncovered eye arched with gleefully malicious intent. "I’d be happy to demonstrate a special technique that falls under that category…one that I like to call 'A Thousand Years of Pain.'" 

"I’ll be sure to pass the sentiment along," Yukari drawled. "But you sidestep the topic..." The dreaded cane seemed to have materialized over the lap of Yukari's lavender kimono. "As you are still on active duty, most of the burden will be placed on your spouse to repair the damage made by your disgraced father." The Nakodo idly fingered the pommel of the polished mahogany cane. "There are many wolves prowling the political field that would seize the throat of a Sarutobi clansman, no matter how weak his blood connection may be." Her pale eyes were razor sharp upon the jounin. "It will be your responsibility as leader of the Hatake clan to ensure that your spouse is a strong-willed opponent that would not crumble under pressure!"

The shift in the conversation had momentarily distracted Iruka. He jumped when Nara Shikaku thumped a melon-sized sake cask onto the presentation table. The round sake cask was a thing of beauty woven from the tender leaves of a Yui-no willow tree. Shikaku took advantage of the chuunin's captured attention to boast that the sake was a special medicinal blend that could cure anything from a hangover to a wart. Iruka merely returned a tight-lipped grimace to the shadow-nin, and catching the bride's mood, Shikaku wisely retreated to his designated seat between the Akimichi and Yamanaka clansmen. 

Iruka shot the offered gift a sour look. Sake casks were meant to symbolize a pledge for obedience and gentleness in marriage. Perhaps he could drink himself to death before the day was through. Iruka's ears suddenly perked at what he caught Yukari hissing into Kakashi's ear. 

"There is still the question of children" Yukari sniffed. "I don't see a way around this problem other than adoption." 

"And I'm sure that you have a list of Hyuuga stock in mind," Kakashi replied with a long suffering sigh. "Honestly, your clan really should adopt a rabbit motif considering the rate that you breed."

Yukari sniffed again. "In my time, a couple was not considered truly married until the match was consummated with a pregnancy. The Hatake clan needs an heir to continue your ruling line…" The Hyuuga Matriarch's voice had risen in volume as well as fervor. "Unless of course, you want your relatives squabbling amongst themselves for that honored title at the real risk of coming to blows within the borders of our beloved village!" She glared at the jounin. "So how do you propose to evade _that_ little problem?"

 _'Keep smiling. Keep smiling.'_ Iruka told himself, hoping against hope that no one else would take heed as his fiancé met the same conversational tone to match Yukari. 

"I have a jutsu for everything!" Kakashi grinned. "Though it might be considered illegal in some areas--" With his attention still fixed on Yukari, Kakashi wrapped an arm around Iruka's shoulders to pull the chuunin close. Iruka's plastered smile slipped into a snarl, and at that moment fate deemed it necessary for a lull in the conversation among the guests when Kakashi boasted in a voice clear enough for the entire room to hear "--but I'm sure that I can get a bun into this oven in no time!" 

Iruka saw red. Without thinking he snatched the sake cask off the table. "Like HELL you will!" The cask slammed into Kakashi's face with enough force to knock the jounin head over heels off his cushion and made a satisfying sound of a hammer hitting a hollow log. Iruka shot up from his seat to properly shriek down at the unconscious copy-nin who had went down like a wet sack of laundry with one sandaled foot flung unceremoniously across the table. "I will cut off your goddamn balls with a plastic table knife and shove them down your throat if you DARE try to use a weird jutsu like that on me!" Iruka brandished the sake cask over his head like a cudgel. "I'd rather DIE than get pregnant by YOU!" 

For a moment Iruka stood breathing heavily over the prone form of his fiancé, then with a start he turned about to face the deathly silence of the crowd before him. The sake cask tumbled from his numb fingers to roll away forgotten under the presentation table.

Over a hundred witnesses stared at Iruka in open-mouth shock. A fair number of the guests had forgotten to let up teapots or sake vessels from overfilling their cups, and the sound of liquid dribbling onto the floor was all that could be heard aside from the Damiyo's brother steadying his delicate wife who had swooned off her seat. Akemi's hands had flown to her mouth in horror, and the Hokage's ever-present pipe had dropped from his startled lips to smolder on the floor. 

"I--I--" The blood had completely drained from Iruka's face. He did then what any proper shinobi would do under the circumstances. Iruka's hands automatically flew into a complex array of seals before he could fully comprehend what he was doing and he vanished inside a cloud of teleportation smoke. 

Sarutobi Umino Iruka had fled from the alter of his wedding.

The heavy silence was broken by the high pitched cackling of Hyuuga Yukari as she nudged her son with an elbow and a knowing wink. "I remember being just as feisty on my wedding night with your father!" 

Hizashi buried his red face in one hand with a groan. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Before it hits the fan XD

  
  
_Fanart by_ [_Eggelo_](http://eggelo.tumblr.com/)


	10. A Solid Foundation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four months ago the hard drive of my old laptop crashed and died forever (there was many tears involved) and as a result the majority of this chapter was typed on a smartphone (there was much cursing over all those tiny, tiny little buttons and my arch nemesis 'autocorrect') before my new computer could be delivered overseas and I could regain the use of a keyboard. After all that chapter 10 is finally done!
> 
> I thank every reader and kudo of this story, especially of those who have taken the time to comment. ^_^ Thank you everyone!
> 
> *Update*  
> Extra special thanks to Dilly-Oh from Tumblr for the amazing FANART based on this chapter! Please scroll down to see!
> 
> Dilly-Oh's Tumblr: http://dilly-oh.tumblr.com/

Iruka had fled to the one place left in the world that he could remotely call his own: the tiny office in the upper floor of the Administration Building. The teleportation smoke cleared to reveal the reassuring familiarity of a room that contained his paperwork-cluttered desk and wooden shelves that bowed under the weight of heavy textbooks. Those walls now seemed to be closing in on him. Iruka sagged limply against the door as the full weight of his actions came crashing down. "Oh no…" he moaned as he slid to the floor. The priceless Haniwa silk whispered in protest against the rough fibers of the wood. "Oh no, no, _no!"_ Iruka buried his face into his hands. 

What had possessed him to spectacularly fuck everything up!? 

He had attacked Kakashi. He, Umino Iruka, a low-born chuunin school teacher, had knocked _the_ Hatake Kakashi out cold before the jounin's peers and the Fire County elite. It was an unforgivable show of weakness on Kakashi's part, and Iruka had all but publicly declared war on the Hatake clan. The marital contract was beyond broken. Not only had Iruka thwarted the Sarutobi clan's one chance at salvation but he had also single handedly destroyed the credibility of two shinobi houses in one literal blow of a humble sake cask. 

A hysterical giggle bubbled in Iruka's throat and he choked it back before it could break him. He felt giddy from the adrenaline quivering throughout his limbs that had no place to go and he absently ran a shaky hand through his hair, his nails digging painfully into his scalp in a vain attempt to control the rising panic. The ivory kanzashi comb plopped to the floor. Iruka's shoulder length hair tumbled loose over his face, a dark curtain that could not shield him from the harsh facts laid before him.

He had thought that his life had been destroyed before, but it was nothing compared to now. The Sarutobi elders would attempt to save face by unanimously voting to publicly disown Iruka before the day was through. Iruka didn't even have his apartment to crawl back to. He would be thrown to the streets with nothing more than a depleted bank account and a cardboard box to his name. Worse than anything else, was the prospect that he could never again meet the Hokage's eyes without shame. 

Cocooned as he was inside his despair, it took a moment for Iruka to register the light tap against the door. 

"Iruka? May I come in?"

Every muscle in Iruka's body stiffened at the voice and icy dread pooled into the pit of his stomach. Without a word Iruka gathered his nerves and his feet, then reached to slide open the door with a trembling hand.

The Hokage slipped through the small opening between door and wall. Age had stooped the Sandaime to fall a head shorter than Iruka but his mere force of presence more than made up for his frail stature. The shinobi leader of the Fire Country closed the door and spared the cluttered office a single glance before settling on the distraught chuunin. The elderly man radiated authority in his every move as well as a deadly grace that belied his age. The long stemmed pipe was back in place, of which the Sandaime puffed as he waited for a response from his adopted son, his gaze penetrative under the wide brimmed Hokage hat. 

"Hokage-sama," Iruka mumbled. He had retreated against the work desk to give his elder more space inside the cramped room. Despite all the years built between them he could never bring himself to address his foster father beyond the respective title. Privately, Iruka had never felt more than an awkward boy around the elder man, and he especially felt so now with hands clasped guiltily behind his back as he obediently awaited punishment. 

"You have been avoiding me." The Hokage's statement boomed inside the small room yet managed to remain flavorless of emotion.

Iruka's eyes dropped to the floor. This was a voice that he recognized from delegation meeting when the Hokage addressed an unsavory crowd before voicing a verdict.

"And you are angry, as well." The Hokage's perceptive words caused a new strain of shame to color Iruka's face, and the chuunin braced himself.

"And you have every right to feel so." A sad smile entered the Sandaime's voice when it became apparent that Iruka would not reply. "It was never my intention to invite you into the Sarutobi clan if this was what fate had in store for you."

Iruka could not meet his foster father's gaze. He stared at a fixed point on the floor. An inner voice screamed to grovel before the Hokage and beg for forgiveness, but Iruka had frozen in place. Forgiveness was not an option at this point, anyways.

The Hokage continued. "You have always been one to take the burden of the world upon your shoulders," he said with a dry chuckle. "It is one thing that I admire about you, that tenacity to see a task through with little thought of the consequences to yourself." The Hokage’s expression softened. "Political marriages are a heavy burden to those not born into that expectation, especially among the ruling shinobi houses. No matter what anyone may say or how you may feel, know that there is always a choice for the sake of your own well being, my son. There is no shame to be selfish in a serious matter such as marriage." 

The Hokage made sense of the world when it appeared to be spinning out of control, and Iruka could feel himself coming undone by those gentle words that held no trace of reprimand or scorn. The bitter resentment that had festered inside Ituka at the injustice of his situation, of which he had pushed aside under the fast pace of events had evaporated from his foster father's reassurance. Iruka did not deserve to be called his son. 

"With all due respect, Hokage-sama," Iruka's words were a leaden weight to hold back the floodgates. "What I did does not excuse my actions. The Hatake clan will demand a public restitution for my offense." It took every ounce of courage to voice his own verdict. "I wholeheartedly accept the consequences that you and the Elders must take to avoid this scandal, but I will save you the trouble by personally withdrawing my name from the Sarutobi family scrolls before the day is through."

The Hokage snorted at the gloomy confession. "You are still young to think _this_ is a public scandal worrisome enough to bring down a clan house. You should try living to my tender age of seventy three, then I guarantee you will witness worse that could ruin a family name." The Hokage sobered. "You should have more faith in Kakashi-san. He is not the type to make such demands, let alone intentionally shame a comrade."

"He's done plenty of _that_ already," Iruka said with venom. "He has made a fool out of me right from the start. I know now that he has no respect for me or this union."

"Iruka--" 

"Forgive me Hokage-sama," Iruka spoke in earnest over the elder man. "You took me in when no one else would bother. A family and a clan name was more than I could have ever hoped after my parents died." The floodgates had opened. Iruka lifted his eyes to meet his foster father, his jaw firmly set into a stubborn line. "I will redeem myself by fulfilling the contract to marry Hatake Kakashi. I'll probably have to gag his mouth with a sealing jutsu first--"

"Really, I insist--" The Hokage attempted to interrupt. 

Iruka refused to be deterred. "--but I will endure whatever task he may request from me and perform without fail, for the sake of our clans and the village we serve." Iruka felt his jaws clench at the humiliation of Kakashi's last words at the reception "Even if he is a self-centered prick of an asshole that can't see beyond the punch line of a joke." 

The Hokage visibly grimaced at those last words. With a wordless shrug he stepped back to slide open the door. "I did try to warn you." 

Iruka's jaw dropped. 

"Yo." Kakashi greeted with a little wave. The copy-nin was a sight to behold. The exposed flesh around the hitate-ate and mask where the sake cask had found its mark was starting to purple from a spectacular bruise with the visible eye nearly swollen shut. The perfectly sculpted silver mane was bent askew from where his head had hit the floor. By the jounin’s demeanor Iruka had no doubt whatsoever that the copy-nin had overheard every single word. Could this hellish day get any worse?

"Maa, Iruka-sensei, you look as if you have just been given sentence for your own execution."

Apparently it could.

The Sandaime Hokage coughed into his fist to bring attention to himself. "I will return downstairs to distract the guests until you two are ready." The Hokage gave Iruka a last reassuring smile before departing from the room. "Whatever you decide, know that you are still my son and will always have a place in the Sarutobi clan." 

The snap of the door sliding shut behind the Hokage resounded like a coffin lid closing over the two men. The quiet ticking of the wall clock was all that could be heard as the awkward minutes stretched with both shinobi studying the small floor space between them.

"How were you able to get here?" Iruka found himself asking as a means to dispel the silence. Kakashi could not have evaded the guests without offering some sort of an explanation.

"I slipped away with a shadow clone taking my place." The jounin replied with a shrug. "It is happily taking a nap on the podium as we speak. Nobody besides the Hokage knows that we're here."

Iruka lifted his gaze to study Kakashi and was taken aback by what he saw. The copy-nin was the picture of dejection; his shoulders slumped and face staring morosely at the floor, and it reminded Iruka of one of his students caught cheating on a test. Such a look did not suit the elite copy-nin. But as an experienced teacher, Iruka was not easily swayed by such a display and made a low challenging growl in his throat. "I'm not sorry for what I said." 

"I have no doubt about that," Kakashi agreed. "I haven't been particularly helpful, as you say." He gingerly tapped his swollen eye before adding begrudgingly under his breath "I think I deserved it…for a lot of things." 

Iruka worried the bottom of his lip. The wall clock ticked quietly in the background. He brushed aside a loose strand of hair from tickling his nose. “What I did was very unprofessional of me." It was not a true apology but it was the closest that Iruka was willing to give. Nonetheless, Iruka felt obliged to return the jounin's humbleness with a dose of his own. "I've been hearing some 'talk' about you and me," Iruka muttered and avoided Kakashi's gaze by smoothing the wrinkles from his forest green kimono. "Well, about myself mostly." He flushed. "I did not like what was said."

"Ah." For a moment Kakashi was silent as he digested the implication behind the statement. "I've been hearing people 'talk' for as far back as I can remember." His words were deliberate and carefully chosen. "Behind closed doors my family would whisper with contempt that my father had not included me to his grave. Shinobi would openly gossip of the strange boy who feared to show his face. The villagers were the worst, especially during times of peace when there was little else to add color to their boring lives. People will always like to ‘talk,’ and there’s nothing that you or I can do to stop them." His mouth twitched under the mask. "It’s easy for me to forget that words can cut deeply as any wound. I suppose that I've learned to stab back in turn, though my mouth has a habit of running ahead of my brain."

Kakashi took two strides to bridge the gap between them, and to Iruka's surprise Kakashi reached out to clasp the chuunin's hands, abalone white fingers encircling cinnamon brown. "I've cut you deeply, Iruka-sensei. I don't expect forgiveness, but I promise to be more...accommodating of what I say."

Iruka was at a loss for words. For a brief moment suspicion compelled him to search for a hidden trap or a barb. The truth of the matter was he did not know how to react to an amiable Kakashi. Asshole Kakashi Iruka could deal with. Obliging Kakashi was someone entirely new. Iruka swallowed hard before asking with trepidation "You're…not angry that I hit you?"

"Far from it," Kakashi chuckled, a warm sound that filled the room. "Truth be told Iruka-sensei, that little love tap with the sake cask was what had really convinced me to commit." Kakashi made a poor attempt at a wink with his swollen eye. "I like a man that can stand his ground with hackles raised."

Iruka gave the Kakashi an incredulous look. Jounin were fucking crazy. Iruka retrieved his hands and folded them over his chest under the luminous kimono sleeves. He cleared his throat and settled a flat stare upon the other man. "I might give you more than a black eye next time."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Kakashi grinned "A sake cask can only take so much abuse."

"You're thick headed enough as it is," Iruka bantered with a small smile. The tension inside the room had lessened considerably, though a taut thread remained ready to snap from a careless misstep.

Kakashi fidgeted for want of something to divert the awkward silence before resettle between them. His eye fell upon the ivory kanzashi comb lying forgotten on the hardwood floor. He stooped to pick it up and regarded Iruka's loose hair with a slight inclination of his head. "May I?"

In answer, Iruka turned his back and lowered to his knees, an invitation to build upon the fragile truce budding between them. Kakashi stepped behind and combed his fingers through the Iruka's dark hair, and seemed to relish the feel of silken strands gliding like water over his skin. Those deadly hands gently massaged Iruka's scalp to soothe away some of the tension. 

A faint moan parted from Iruka's lips as knot between his temples gave way to a blissful moment of mental release. His eyes snapped open before he could further succumb under that spell. "How in the hell am I supposed to return to the ceremony?" He was mortified to face that crowd downstairs. 

"I suppose you can go about it two ways," Kakashi hummed as he smoothed the chuunin's hair. "You can behave as the courtiers expect you to, utterly humbled and cowed with your tail tucked between your legs..." Kakashi gathered the brunet locks up into one fist before fishing for the ivory kanzashi comb tucked inside his obi belt. "Or you can take advantage of this opportunity to assert your dominant status above me."

"Dominance!?" Iruka sputtered. "We're hardly dealing with your ninken pack here!"

"I've found over the years that the principles of canine hierarchy can easily apply to human behavior," Kakashi said as he fastened the ivory comb. He grinned. "And you did manage to put me in place when I threatened to deflower your honor. I think that would put you on top of the pecking order before all the guests, in terms of pack mentality."

Iruka considered as Kaskashi fluffed the ends of his gathered ponytail as a finishing touch. "So in other words..." Iruka said slowly "I could do what's least expected of me to gain the upper hand."

"It's what I've always done..." Kakashi replied. With Iruka's grooming completed his hands fell to his sides. "That is, until I've met someone who can just as easily unbalance me."

Iruka rose from the floor to face the other man. They were almost of a height and he only had to tilt his gaze to meet the single eye that was nearly hidden under purpling flesh. He was standing so close to the jounin. He tentatively lifted a hand to Kakashi's face, his fingers hovering over the swollen skin, than gave into the impulse to run his fingers through the glued spikes to ruffle his silver hair back into a semblance of its natural state. Iruka stepped back to smile at the perplexed expression on Kakashi's face. "I like you more this way." 

There was no denying the faint blush that blossomed under Kakashi's mask. “Well, it’s a good thing that I don't upstage you." He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. "In that kimono getup you look like you’ve just stepped out from a storybook."

Iruka was momentarily stunned by those words that mirrored his own sentiment the day before. He felt a hesitant glow blossom inside his chest from the compliment and averted his eyes before Kakashi could see the blush rising in his cheeks, of which he was aware that was further heightened by his pale scar. 

"I'm sorry if that sounded cheesy." Kakashi hastily added, misinterpreting Iruka’s gesture.

“No, it’s fine.” Iruka met Kakashi’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

Kakashi felt the heat intensify under his mask. The chuunin-sensei had never smiled at him in such a way before. A thought occurred to him. "Can I…use my Sharingan?" he asked hesitantly.

Iruka's smile faltered. "What for?"

"I want to remember you--I mean us, as we are right now." Kakashi swallowed "If that’s all right with you."

Iruka strode behind his desk to rummage for a compact mirror. He returned to stand beside Kakashi with the mirror in palm, adjusting the angle for their reflections to meet. Iruka’s features were drawn from the stress and sleepless nights of the past few days, and could not be entirely masked underneath his now impeccable hair and finery of the Haniwa Kimono. Iruka’s bloodshot eyes flickered to study Kakashi with his silvery mane in wild mess and the exposed Sharingan a vivid red contrast to the swollen purple one. 

[](http://s11.photobucket.com/albums/a193/ryals_shoal02/?action=view&current=masao_urami_reduced.jpg)  
_Fanart by_ [_Dilly-Oh_](http://dilly-oh.tumblr.com/)

"Don't we make a fine pair" The chuunin chuckled. "I guess we're in this together now, for better or worse."

"We'll make it through somehow." Kakashi said into the mirror. His voice had fallen back to a casual tone as he examined his bruised eye critically. “I think I’ll be wearing this for a few weeks. You sure know how to pack a punch!”

“By the way," Iruka returned the lighthearted tone with a dry quirk of his lips. "I hope that you were not referring to those vulgar _Icha Icha_ books when you made that storybook reference about my kimono." 

"I think you are wearing too many layers for Jiraiya-san's tastes, but then again it would depend on what's hiding underneath." Kakashi’s mask stretched over an impish grin. “At least now I can trust that you will give me a black eye over a knife in the back.”

Iruka smiled a little too sweetly. “Don’t push your luck.” His expression made Kakashi look away with a guilty flush to his cheeks and nervously scratch his scar underneath the Sharingan eye.

It was then that Iruka resigned himself to the fact that he would have to start counting to ten to help keep his temper in check. Perhaps he and Kakashi would make it to old age with most of the jounin’s teeth intact, but at least for now they had some sort of a foundation that they could start to build upon. 

~*~*~*~*~

The reception room had turned into a scene of subdued chaos during the last fifteen minutes since Iruka’s dramatic escape. The majority of the bedecked courtiers were standing in outrageous defiance for an explanation from a stoic Saindame Hokage, of whom he and his sister Sarutobi Akemi evaded all questions by quietly smoking on their pipes and wordlessly blowing smoke into the faces of the more short-tempered guests. Akemi would flaunt her heavy battle pipe in a manner that made the nobles stand a good five paces away from the ceremonial podium. A fair number of the courtiers had flocked to the main entrance in the back of the room to demand leave at once. The wife of the Damiyo’s brother had been revived with smelling salts and was sipping cool mint tea as attendants provided a breeze with gilded fans. Her husband glowered with impatience at his delegates, who were unsuccessfully trying to negotiate passage through the masked ANBU guarding the main door. Tenzou Yamato was as impassive as a brick wall, and he was determined not to allow a few courtiers who have had their feathers ruffled decide the fate of his senpai’s wedding day.

In contrast to nobility’s fiery tempers most of the shinobi clansmen had calmly remained in their seats to drain the last of the free sake reserves. Some of the clansmen debated amongst themselves on the subject of the secret wager between bride and groom. It was a hot topic as the monetary pot was currently set at over 500,000 ryo, which was more than what most S Class missions were worth. Inuzuka Tsume and Nara Shikaku were engaged in a fierce debate on whether the pot should be immediately cashed out to the winner or not, of which Shikaku would eloquently argue “It’s not over until the fat lady sings!”

Throughout the hubbub Kakashi’s shadow clone was left mostly forgotten under the presentation table on the podium with Hyuuga Yukari and her son Hizashi stoically standing guard in their hard-won seat of honor next to the Hokage’s family. The Hyuuga clansmen inclined their heads when they heard a small ‘pop’ beneath the table, and Kakashi emerged into view with an audible groan. The copy-nin blinked through his swollen eye at the awaiting crowd as if in a daze. “Am I married yet?” he blearily asked. 

“This is an outrage!” One of the bolder courtiers stepped forward with his temper quivering like a boiling tea kettle and a complexion to match. “The Hokage has refused to answer any questions on the whereabouts of your _bride.”_ The red faced courtier spat the word out like a curse. “This farce of a wedding is an insult to us all! We who have traveled far from--”

“He’s missing!?” Kakashi feigned a rather believable expression of disbelief as he looked to his right at the Hyuuga clansmen for answers. Both Yukari and Hizashi returned an imperious glare that silently acknowledged that they had both saw through Kakashi’s shadow-clone ruse with their Byakyugan eyes. Kakashi ignored them and turned back to demand of the sputtering delegate “Why did no one bother wake me?” 

Before the courtier could answer there was a commotion at the other end of the room as a tremor of anticipation rippled throughout the crowd and prompted the guests to hurriedly reclaim their seats. The entire room fell silent when Tenzou Yamato stepped aside to open the main doors.

Sarutobi Umino Iruka glided into the reception room with all the detached interest of a prince on his way to partake in afternoon tea. Iruka did not see the bewildered faces of the wedding guests nor heard their dark mutterings as he swept past the tables. Iruka held his head high as he focused at an unfixed point on the podium above Kakashi’s head. He was a swan quietly churning the waters of a pond without rippling the surface, a cool pillar of stoic serenity. When he reached the podium he turned to face the table seated by the highest ranking members of Damiyo nobility, the gradient hues of the Haniwa kimono shimmered through his movements like leaves dancing in the wind. Iruka knelt to perform a deep bow until his bare forehead nearly touched the floor and he addressed the Damiyo’s brother in a gravely formal voice clear enough for the entire room to hear. 

“Please forgive this one Sarutobi Umino Iruka, honorable Tajimanaka Ansoebi Fukadoshina Shuie-sama of the Nakayama House, overseer of the Three-Fold Valley and of the blood and voice to our esteemed Damiyo of the Fire Country. I beg for your forgiveness of my intrusion of your time and of upsetting the inner peace of your gentle wife, Lady Eiekawa Katoe Hotaruko Shizuka of the Nakayama-Battoeh House, Keeper of the sacred Eijeh Chalice and of the blood and voice to our esteemed Damiyo of the Fire Country.” Iruka continued after a brief pause for breath. “If I may request, I humbly ask for your gracious permission for this unworthy person such as myself to complete my matrimonial vows to the honorable shinobi Kakashi of the Hatake Clan before your honorable presence.”

Sweat trickled down the small of Iruka’s back as he waited for an answer. With his head bowed he could not have seen the Damiyo’s brother blink in mild surprise at the eloquently delivered speech of himself and his spouse’s full titles. “Quite amusing, this day has become,” the man answered in a light tenor that reminded one of a songbird. “Indeed, I have never encountered such brutish violence at a wedding before today. Usually the bride would poison the groom with the sake than brutishly bash him over the head with it.” The highborn noble modestly hid an approving smile behind a golden fan when his offhanded remark did not illicit even a twitch from the kneeling shinobi. “Very well, I permit my pardon for the upset of my courtiers and esteemed wife. As for myself, I do believe that I am made of sterner stuff.” 

Iruka touched his forehead to the floor. “My deepest thanks, Tajimanaka Ansoebi Fukudo—“

“Yes yes,” the noble cut off the chuunin’s acceptance speech with an impatient wave of his fan. “Indeed, I am interested to see how this ceremony will conclude. Perhaps I shall consider attending more inside Konoha village if they promise to be just as…amusing.” 

At the noble’s dismissive tone Iruka rose to deliver a deep bow before the courtiers and another at the wedding party on the ceremonial podium before reclaiming his seat next to Kakashi with solemn grace. The Saindaime Hokage, Sarutobi Akemi and even Hyuuga Yukari acknowledged Iruka with approving nods of how he had placidly handled the courtiers. The Hokage inclined his head to the awaiting Shinto priest in a silent command for the ceremony to begin. The priest was an elderly man in flowing white robes and sported a thin beard that nearly trailed to the ground. The priest waved impatiently for his attendants to remove the presentation table and motioned both Kakashi and Iruka to turn in their seats to face the podium. 

Kakashi’s visible eye had taken on a peculiar shade similar to that of an eggplant. The jounin was practically bursting with pride and did not bother to hide the almost maniacal grin under his mask. Iruka blinked at Kakashi’s strange expression and fixed his attention on the Shinto priest who commenced the start of the ceremony by waving a twig harvested from a sacred tree. Long paper streamers trailed from the end of the twig, and the fluttering white streamers engaged the onlookers as the priest began to chant in a deep droning voice that resounded throughout the room like a gong.

A low murmur whispered behind the couple as the guests speculated on the sudden change of Iruka’s demeanor and Kakashi’s apparent nonchalance after being attacked by his bride-to-be. Iruka stiffened as if those voices were needles stabbing into his back. It was much more difficult to ignore his surroundings idly sitting with nothing to do but wait. Iruka rested his hands over his lap and his fingers trembled ever-so-slightly, a small crack in his self-imposed serenity. He gripped the fabric of the Haniwa kimono to still them. Kakashi tilted his swollen eye to give Iruka a reassuring smile though it was apparent that he was nervous as well, as evidenced by how the jounin absently drummed his fingers against his knees. 

The attendants brought forth a black lacquer tray bearing three shallow saucers of bone-white porcelain of varying sizes, from a small cup that could barely fit inside Iruka’s palm to one that required two hands to properly hold. The cups contained carefully measured portions of purified sakes for the ‘SanSanKudo’, or the ‘Three Sips Equals Nine’ ritual. It was the oldest of traditions dating before the Shinobi Wars and one observed at weddings in all the Shinibi Nations. The attendants carefully placed the tray between the couple and retreated to the foreground. Behind the three cups almost as an afterthought, was a small ornate box containing two matching wedding bands engraved with the symbol of the Leaf. 

The priest did not break his monotonous drone as he mentioned for Kakashi to pick up the smallest of the cups. Kakashi tilted his head in a bow before partaking three sips before passing it to Iruka to do the same. Iruka nearly fumbled as his palms were sweaty, and he drained the sake in three hasty sips. Iruka wished that the purified sake wine was stronger. When he finished it felt as if a door was beginning to close shut behind him. There was no turning back now. Once the third sake cup had been drained the marriage pact would be officially sealed. The wedding rings were more of a physical symbol of their union and would be exchanged at the conclusion of the ceremony.

Kakashi finished the medium sized cup and passed it to Iruka, who was more conscious to be steady with his hands. The jounin was grinning like a loon under his mask. The grace of the Shinto priest’s movements faltered when he caught sight of the strange expression on the copy-nin’s face, and the priest shot furtive glances between the jounin and the bride as if he were afraid Iruka would again violently snap. The elderly priest increased the tempo of his chant to conclude the ceremony in due haste.

Iruka accepted the largest sake cup after Kakashi had finished taking three sips and drained the remaining contents in three hard gulps, and as the last drop passed his lips he felt the door firmly close shut. They were now officially married, except for one last thing...

With trepidation Iruka picked up Kakashi’s ring. He could feel Kakashi intently watching his grim expression as he slid the broad gold band over the jounin’s left ring finger. Kakashi did the same but with more fluidity in his motions, and as the cold metal enveloped his finger Iruka involuntarily twitched with the urge to pull away. The warmth of Kakashi’s pale fingers brushed against the darker shade of the chuunin’s skin in a brief soothing motion, and Iruka’s eye caught the glint of gold from the jounin’s left hand. Their eyes met, and Iruka’s lips quirked at the Kakashi’s poor attempt at a wink through his bruised eye, and he relaxed enough to allow Kakashi to complete sliding on his ring. 

They were really and truly married now. 

As instructed by Yukari, the pair stood to face the crowd with their ringed hands clasped for all to see. The audience erupted into a loud applause as the newly married couple bowed together before the guests. When they straightened Hatake Kakashi was still grinning that strange smile of his and Hatake Umino Iruka smiled as if the conclusion of the ceremony was his heart’s desire, but really all Iruka wanted was to find something much stronger than the ceremonial sake wine to see the rest of the long day through.

~*~*~*~*~

Within the hour during the banquet Iruka had received his wish for stronger alcohol. As a result, the remainder of the day blurred together in a long series of events with himself and Kakashi sitting at the podium as every single guest returned to the podium to again deliver their well-wishes and congratulations to the married couple. The proceedings was then followed by a massive banquet where Iruka possessed no appetite other than for a few tiny dishes of pickled vegetables and one steamed bun filled with sweet bean paste. The formal banquet was followed by the bride and groom standing to mingle with the crowd of wedding guests to partake in informal conversation. 

The Hokage was the first to approach Iruka. “I am proud of you,” The Sandaome Hokage said with a smile. “You have done a great service to our family.”

Iruka shrugged as if the matter of his marriage was of no great importance. His sake cup was still half full. “Hokage-sama, I had vowed to lay down my life for this village. I would do the same for the Sarutobi clan, whether I was a part of it or not.”

“There’s no need for to be dramatic,” The elder man chuckled, and shot a jaundiced eye at a noble delegate creeping up behind Iruka to intercede on their private conversation. The delegate bounced back to a respectable distance, but more were gathering awaiting the chance to strike an audience with the Hokage. The Sandaime sighed in exasperation and delivered the sum of what he had wanted to say to his son. “I guarantee that Kakashi-san is not as bad as an S-Class mission, though now it might seem so.” The Sandaime reached to pat Iruka’s hands over the sake cup. “I have high hopes that you two would be able to get along, in time. The path to reach it might be rocky but do take time to enjoy the flowers you might find along the way.” The Sandaime released Iruka’s hands and stepped away, and in an instant he was surrounded by the delegates and disappeared from sight.

Iruka was still digesting the Sandaime’s words when Yukari approached with silent Hizashi close behind. “You will have a rocky road ahead with Kakashi,” she warned in her usual no-nonsense tone. “But I do believe you have the constitution to see past his faults and provide some stability to both your clans. To quote the poet Tanaka Hiromu: ‘Flower petals will soften the stones beneath yon traveler’s feet, if there is grace to tread the path lightly.’”

“I hope so…” Iruka was somewhat confident that he was not slurring his words too terribly. He had almost no idea of what Yukari was eluding to. All these talks of flowers and rocks were beginning to blur together. And how many sake flasks did he finish so far…four or five? 

“I certainly do not envy you your position,” Yukari said with a dry quirk her lips. She appeared to be mildly amused by Iruka’s condition. “My only advice to you is to remember that marriage is first and foremost a partnership set on a balanced scale, and is only maintained when both parties willingly share the burden together.” The silver comb atop her bound hair bobbed in agreement to her own words. “There will be times when either of you must carry the entire weight for the sake of the other, but that is what it means to be married. If the balance can be maintained through understanding and a little patience there is a real possibility for contentment and even a measure of happiness.” The Hyuuga Matron tapped her mahogany cane against the floor to emphasize her point. “Take my advice from one who had been married to the head of the Hyuuga house for over sixty years and has inherited those duties as a widow in the last ten.”

Iruka blinked at Yukari. “So…exactly how old are you!?” he demanded in a very obvious slur.

Yukari gave a long suffering sigh. “Dear Iruka-kun, please try to remember that you should feel free to visit me for advice if you need anything that is not related to clan politics.” She turned away with another dry quirk to her lips. “But do keep in mind to be careful of what you say in the future. We are now on an even playing ground and we must take care of what is said outside the tea room. The battleground of politics can be just as cutthroat as any scuffle between shinobi out on the field.”

Iruka stood befuddled as the Hyuuga matron ambled away to rejoin her son. The strange encounter Hyuuga Matron was swiftly forgotten when Kakashi appeared at his side. “Yo,” the jounin muttered under his breath, and what could be seen of the normal eye through swollen flesh glanced down at the sake cup in Iruka’s hand. “Been enjoying yourself?”

“Far from it,” Iruka replied cheerfully. “I can’t wait for this all to be over so I can go home and sleep this day off as if it were a baaaad dream!”

Kakashi took the sake wine from Iruka’s hand and ducked to hide his face as he drained it in a single gulp. “Try to eat something,” Kakashi whispered without returning the cup. “We still have a few hours before we can leave.”

“Oh,” Iruka said right before Kakashi disappeared back into the crowd. He really wished that his husband had not stolen his sake cup. _‘Heh. My husband!’_ Iruka thought with real surprise. His giddy bark of a laugh startled two passing nobles to hasten their steps as they practically fled from the bride.

~*~*~*~*~

More than a few hours later Kakashi experienced a rather enlightening encounter with the younger sister to the Hokage. The elegant Sarutobi Akemi was all smiles and congratulations on the surface, but she made it clear through small gestures with her battle pipe that she would be the first to pay Kakashi a visit if the jounin intended to harm Iruka in any way, and that there were several Sarutobi clansmen at her beck and call to bolster her threat.

Iruka received a similar encounter from his neighbor-to-be Morino Kaeno, with her hulking battle-scarred son Ibiki standing silent as a shadow behind his plump mother. Kaeno used her favorite pair of chopsticks to colorfully illustrate her point across, of which Iruka’s flushed complexion became increasingly paler as the conversation progressed until Kakashi could interfere to politely steer his husband toward a glowering Akemi, who immediately brightened at the chance to speak with her nephew.

With their places now safely exchanged Kakashi turned to have a private word with his neighbor. He shot a meaningful glance at Ibiki, who took the unspoken hint to step out of earshot. “Was it really necessary to intimidate him?” Kakashi asked.

“Absolutely,” Kaeno grinned. “That boy should be aware that he is not the only one with people to depend on if things turn rough.”

“Why would you think that would be a problem?” Kakashi asked, genuinely curious. His smiling neighbor was a woman who’s motives tended to not to be all that appeared on the surface. 

“Because you are a hard man, Kakashi-san,” Kaeno’s ever present smile faded to one of utmost seriousness. “You have been forged by the fires of war and have been tempered by the blood of those you have slain, but even the best metal can shatter from a single crack.” She edged closer, and Kakashi had to stoop to hear what she whispered for his ears alone. “It is the quiet nights that can undo us in the end. It has been forty years since my last mission and the screams of the dead still keep me awake at night.” She withdrew. “I wanted to plant a seed inside that boy’s head that you are not a statue, Kakashi-san, but a living person in need of companionship during those quiet nights.”

Kakashi’s shoulders twitched as if he had been shocked by an electric current. Kaeno’s words had hit a little to close to home behind his true motive to marry. Surviving to his thirtieth birthday had forced Kakashi to confront the real possibility that he might reach retirement from active duty, and with that realization surfaced a deep seeded fear to spend the remainder of his years isolated inside the Hatake manor with only the ghosts of his past to progressively drive him mad or prompt him to suicide. It was not an uncommon fate for lonely retired jounin, and Kakashi already spent too much time at the memorial stone as it is. “Hmph,” Kakashi grunted and he folded his arms across his chest. “I take it that you speak from personal experience?” 

“Indeed,” Kaeno agreed. “My husband was a civilian with absolutely no training in the shinobi arts, but I think that it was his strength that helped carry us through during my twilight years.” The smile returned to her face. “Strength can be gained from the most unexpected of forms, be it a simple gesture or a kind smile. I dearly hope that your husband is one that is capable to help shoulder your burdens, and that you are one that is willing to share them.” 

Kakashi was not one to visibly display his true emotions but he made a brief exception this one time for the woman that was the closest that he had ever had to a mother. “You really are perceptive,” he said with real affection.

“Don’t I know it!” Kaeno returned Kakashi’s smile with a toothy grin. “Information is in the Morino family’s business, after all…but it also comes with age and experience.” The stout little woman reached on her tip toes to pinch Kakashi’s cheek, mask and all. She took a step back and inclined her head to beckon her son Morino Ibiki to return. “You should have put ice on that eye hours ago,” she reprimanded. 

“At least I have the ninkins to lead me around if it swells shut” Kakashi chuckled as he waved farewell to his neighbor, then turned to check on his husband. Sarutobi Akemi was currently engaged along with the Hokage with a tight group of Damiyo diplomats and appeared to be on the verge of closing a deal. Both the Sarutobi siblings had their heads together in quiet discussion before the sour-faced diplomats who seemed to be getting the stick-end of the deal. Iruka was nowhere to be seen. Kakashi moved unhampered by his wide pinstripe hakima trousers, though the loud rustling of the heavy fabrics grated against his ears as he searched through the crowd.

He found Iruka near the back of the room at low table surrounded by Konoha shinobi clansmen. Nara Shikaku and Maito Gai sat on either side of the chuunin. Gai was in the midst of one of a long-winded speech and Shikaku was busy refilling sake into everyone’s cups. Iruka had a new sake cup in hand and swayed as if ready to fall backwards off his seat. Kakashi made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. _’Patience,’_ he reminded himself _’It has been a long day for the both of us.’_ Kakashi did not care whether they offended the uppity nobility or not, it was time for them to leave. Iruka had managed to evade complete disaster with the sake cask incident, but sicking-up over the priceless Haniwa kimono was not the best note to conclude their wedding ceremony. Kakashi wasn’t sure if even the Hokage himself could forgive the newly wedded couple for destroying the crown jewel of the Sarutobi clan’s family fortune.

Kakashi made his presence known at the table by loudly clearing his throat. Iruka grinned up at Kakashi, the pale scar stood out like a beacon against flushed skin. “Heeey,” Iruka slurred and handed the jounin his half-filled cup. “Want mine? I think I be drank…drunking…” he blinked as his tongue stumbled for the right word “Drinking too enough!” 

“I did recommend that you ate something,” Kakashi chided as he purposely wedged himself between Shikaku and Iruka. Kakashi rapped the tabletop with his knuckles in a specific tattoo to alert the shinobi that there was urgent business at hand. The five jounin immediately put down their cups to listen. Kakashi inclined his head at Iruka and raised one eyebrow, and the clansmen had enough grace to look abashed. “We need to leave,” Kakashi stated. “And not even the Hokage is going to stop us.”

“What will you have us do?” Tsume asked. The Inuzuka clanswoman was the least intoxicated of the bunch and seemed eager for something to do. 

Kakashi quickly laid out his plans “A defensive ring around the target and a distraction for escape.”

“Leave the distracting to me!” Maito Gai lustily sprang from his seat and with much fluttering of his lime-green kimono. The Green Beast paused to scratch his broad chin in consideration. “Kakashi-san, I think that it would be best that you thank the Damiyo’s family before you depart.”

“Agreed,” Yamanaka Inoichi nodded, and his blond pontytail swayed at the motion. “You know how stiff-backed these nobles are about etiquette.”

“Tell me about it!” Akimichi Chozo guffawed. “Shikaku, do you remember that time…” The large shinobi’s words were abruptly cut off by the said Nara clansmen elbowing Akimichi sharply in the ribs. “Oof, oh right. It can wait.” The Akamichi clansmen rubbed at his side with chagrin. 

“Then it’s settled,” Kakashi said as he stood. He bent to help Iruka rise from his seat. Iruka had blinked in confusion throughout the entire discussion and wobbled unsteadily on his feet. “Get ready, we’re going home,” Kakashi whispered to him. “And if you need to throw up, do it on me.”

“Why are you so weird!?” Iruka demanded with a hiccup. He was lost from sight when the four shinobi clansmen closed around him in a tight circle formation, their stances were casual but wore hard expressions to deter anyone that might dare to intercede.

Kakashi made his way to the ceremonial podium with Gai in tow. The Damiyo’s family turned in their seats at the sight of the jounin climbing the podium. Kakashi bowed to the Damiyo nobility before proclaiming in a clear voice to capture the crowd. “On behalf of myself and my husband I thank everyone for attending today.” He swept an arm in a grand gesture to include everyone in the room. “It is a great honor to be attended by so many well-wishers. The Sarutobi and Hatake clans are truly blessed to have so many friends.” Someone in the crowd coughed at that, and Kakashi continued without missing a beat. “Despite my rugged appearance I possess a weak heart and I am feeling rather unwell from the excitement of this joyous day, so much that I fear my heart might explode with contentment. However, my new husband has graciously offered to attend to my welfare and take me home—“ 

“Are you implying that the wedding is over?” A noble cut in with shrill indignation. “I must meet with the Hoka—“

“Not so!” Maito Gai burst into the scene in a single grand leap to join Kakashi on the podium. “The JUBILATION of this momentous day will continue fueled by the PASSION between the honored couple!” The sparkling metallic kunai and shuriken-print against electric green of Gai’s kimono was bedazzling to the eye and provided the distraction needed for the copy-nin to slip away. “I shall VIGOUROUSLY express their LOVE through interpretive dance whist I recite a small selection of poetry dedicated to such YOUTHFUL feelings!” Gai fished a bulky scroll from his robes with flourish and gustily continued “I will commence with my personal favorite by literary genius Miamoto Nasu’s _‘Love is a Bonfire in the Mist…’_ ” The Green Beast of Konoha twirled about on one toe and performed a backward flip which elicited gasps of amazement from the nobility. “Oh, how may I see your eyes BURN through a morning mist, My feeling for you are FUELED by your passionate kiss…“ 

“Are you ready to go?” Kakashi asked after he had slipped through the protective circle of jounin surrounding the chuunin. Iruka had sobered somewhat and was fidgeting with agitation and appeared fit to burst with a question. “What is it?” Kakashi whispered, on the verge of impatience. 

Iruka’s eyes had the look of a cornered animal. “We’re going to your house, aren’t we?” There was real fear in his eyes. He was trapped by Kakashi inside a blockade of shinobi elite with no chance of escape. “Tonight I can’t…I mean, I-I don’t want…” He ducked his head beneath the sleeves of the Haniwa kimono. “Forgive me, Hatake-san, but I can’t do ‘that’ for you,” his muffled voice sounded utterly miserable beneath the shimmering fabric. 

Kakashi’s heart twisted a little. So it was not just the stress of the wedding ceremony that had prompted Iruka to drown himself in his cups. “Hey,” he gently folded back the Haniwa kimono sleeves to reveal the dejected chuunin-sensei. “As long as I don’t have anything to fear from you, then you have nothing to fear from me.” Iruka did not appear entirely convinced, but Kakashi could not afford to lose any more time reassuring his troubled husband. The entrapped nobility could only be distracted by Gai’s bad poetry for so long. Kakashi wrapped an arm around Iruka’s shoulders and readied the teleportation jutsu. “Here we go…”

The floor lurched beneath their feet and smoke filled the world... 

~*~*~*~*~

…To be replaced by utter darkness and silence. 

Vertigo hit Iruka like a blow. “Ohh…my head!” He lurched forward against Kakashi to clutch the jounin’s robes to keep from pitching over.

Kakashi caught Iruka by the elbows to steady him. “Are you alright?” Despite of what he had said, he really, really hoped that Iruka did not puke all over his grooms wear.

“I think so,” Iruka groaned. The jounin’s chest was a nice place to rest his forehead…and then he realized what he was doing and sharply pulled away. They were indoors inside a closed room with a single window overlooking what appeared to be a garden bathed by the muted colors of moonlight. “Where are we?” Iruka asked, his eyes had yet to adjust to assess his surroundings.

“In your bedroom,” Kakashi said as he stepped around Iruka and began to tug the elaborate knot of the white obi belt loose. Iruka jerked away with a startled noise. “We really should get you out of that kimono,” Kakashi was quite anxious to remove the priceless garment before it could be unintentionally destroyed. As generous as his coffers were Kakashi would likely have to sell a portion of his family estate to compensate for the Sarutobi clan’s loss of the Haniwa kimono, not to mention the respect of a goodly number of Iruka’s family members as well. “I’m not too sure that I could remove vomit stains from antique silk” the jounin elaborated dryly.

“Oh…right.” There was a long pause followed by feet scuffling guiltily against the woven tatami mats. “Sorry,” Iruka mumbled.

Kakashi shrugged, a sound made by the rustling of his bulky kimono as he resumed loosening the knot of the bridal obi from the small of Iruka’s back. “At least you got us to avoid the closing ceremony. I don’t think I could stand another minute brown-nosing to the Damiyo nobility.” The obi belt fell free and was quickly followed by the Haniwa kimono, which easily slipped free from Iruka’s outstretched arms. Kakashi spread the Haniwa kimono over a prepared futon bed on the floor and knelt to fold it with utmost care so as to not wrinkle the fabric. 

Iruka wanted to laugh at how quickly Kakashi had managed to remove his wedding kimono, considering all the hours of preparation it had taken to don it on. Iruka was left standing in the two layers of undergarments the outer of which was designed to add bulk to the decorative outer kimono, a stiff cream-colored nagajuban. The second layer was a thin white linen shift to protect both kimono and nagajuban from contamination of the wearer. Both were cut in the same fashion as a kimono, and hugged against Iruka’s lean frame. The sound of crickets chirping in the garden outside was the only sound to be heard besides Kakashi folding the Haniwa kimono over the futon mattress on the floor. 

Iruka realized that he was staring and hastened to remove the nagajuban himself before Kakashi could make an attempt. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out a moderately sized room with a large closet and a tall dresser next to what appeared to be sliding wooden doors leading to the rest of the house. A standing mirror placed in one corner of the room reflected the pale moonlight over Kakashi in the final stages of folding the treasured kimono. Iruka draped the nagajuban over one arm and resisted the urge to shiver in his thin linen shift. “Thank you, but I can take care of the rest in the morning,” Iruka said testily. He felt exposed in what was essentially his underwear, and the hasty removal of the nagajuban made him dizzy and his stomach protest.

Without rising from his kneeling position on the floor Kakashi plucked the nagajuban undergarment from the chuunin’s grasp to fold it as well. “In all honesty Iruka-sensei, I think that you have more advantage over me than I do of you.” Kakashi said in a quiet voice that was as unreadable as the shadows blanketing the furnishings about the room. “There’s a pitcher of water and a cup on the dresser. Please help yourself if you are thirsty.” 

Iruka had unconsciously folded his arms across his chest. He was unsure of how to interpret the sudden shift of the jounin’s mood and his cryptic statement. What did Kakashi mean that Iruka had the advantage, the advantage of what? “I don’t understand you at all!” Iruka blurted.

Kakashi paused in folding the nagajuban to incline his head. The stark shadows from the reflected moonlight along with his swollen eye made the copy-nin appear exceptionally grim. “Perhaps that will come in time…if we’re both lucky.” 

Iruka shifted his feet, even in his inebriated state Kakashi had sounded a little too fatalistic for his taste. “Then what about the bedroom?” Iruka demanded as a means to change the heavy atmosphere. “Why are you giving it to me?” Iruka was relieved to have his own room but had been certain that the jounin would insist that they follow custom of sharing a bed in accordance to their wedding night.

“It was one of the terms of the verbal contract we made at the bar.” Kakashi gathered the folded garments and stood from the floor, his teeth shone in the moonlight from a wide grin. His dour mood seemed to have passed. “Did you forget?”

“No,” Iruka lied, and then he gave a start. When had Kakashi removed his mask?

Iruka’s expression prompted Kakashi to explain “I am in my house, after all.” Kakashi brushed past Iruka as he made for the door. “One must be comfortable in their own home.” The door slid open to a dark hallway. “Pleasant dreams, Iruka-sensei.”

“W-wait,” Iruka said before Kakashi could disappear. He unfolded his arms over his chest to hang loose at his sides. “Thank you, for this room and…and holding to our agreement.” He paused to swallow in an effort to hide his hesitation, but it was only fair that he hold up his end of the contract as well. “Aren’t you going to ask me for that daily kiss?”

Kakashi turned and in two quick strides he was before Iruka with the folded silks tucked under one arm. The copy-nin had given up the use of his swollen eye and had pushed his hitate-ate to reveal the Sharingan for better visibility in the dark. The wide pupil inside the crimson iris was like a vast empty pool, one that enticed the Iruka to step in and be swallowed whole. “I’m retracting that part of our agreement,” Kakashi’s soft voice gently broke the spell “In favor of a new one.”

Iruka flushed and adjusted his gaze to focus on the jagged scar that ran beneath the Sharingan eye. “What do you have in mind?” Iruka asked cautiously.

“You kiss me whenever you are ready to, or never.” Kakashi smiled with a faint quirk of his thin lips. “Either way I won’t try to step over your boundaries unless you say otherwise.”

“That’s…generous of you” Iruka replied uncertainly. It was definitely not what he had expected to hear, and the proposal did not seem to be in character of what Iruka knew of the jounin. Was Kakashi really being sincere?

The corners of Kakashi’s mouth twitched again, this time to betray nervousness. “But before we null that part of our contract could I be permitted this last opportunity, since it is our wedding day?”

Iruka was captivated by how the moonlight caught a faint spider line of a scar running up Kakashi’s chin and over one side of his bottom lip. Iruka wasn’t sure if he could properly speak so he instead nodded his consent. His eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head, his mouth parting slightly with anticipation. To Iruka’s complete surprise and utter confusion those scarred lips pressed against his bare forehead. His eyes blinked open but the kiss was over before he could blink twice. 

Kakashi had swiftly retreated to step behind the open door. The jounin was smiling. It was a genuinely warm expression that made Iruka’s heart skip a beat. “Thank you,” the silver hair dipped in a deeply formal bow. “I hope that you will find happiness inside our home. Goodnight, Iruka.” The door slid shut and Kakashi was gone.

Iruka stumbled backwards. His heel caught the long hem of the linen shift he wore and the dark wooden beams of the ceiling whirled before his eyes as he gracelessly flopped backwards into the plush futon mattress. For a long time Iruka laid unmoving from where he was, contemplating what had just happened as best he could with the room spinning and a bed that seemed to rock as if it were a boat adrift on open water. 

This could not be the same jounin Iruka had met three days ago. The Kakashi that had first introduced himself as a potential marriage prospect had been a cocky and self-absorbed asshole that delighted in baiting and manipulating the hapless chuunin for amusement. As far as Iruka could tell this Kakashi was much more considerate…polite even, but he was also more guarded and distant. Maybe Iruka had hit him with the sake flask harder than he had thought.

Iruka gingerly brushed his fingertips over his forehead. He could still feel the warmth of that last kiss and it made his eyebrows knit together with concern. Iruka had been certain that Kakashi had intended for something far less innocent, but apparently the jounin was honorable enough to stand by his original promise to be as ‘chaste as if kissing his grandmother,’…but still…why did it bother him so? 

Realization hit Iruka like a bucket of ice water thrown against his face. He, Umino Iruka, felt cheated that Kakashi had not kissed him on the lips on their wedding night. He was _disappointed!_ If Iruka had a mirror he would have seen that his complexion had paled to match the thin linen shift he wore. Iruka buried his face into his hands with a despairing groan. In the brief span of a few days his life had been one tumultuous ride of emotional ups and downs, and discovering that he had wanted to kiss Kakashi—no, Iruka still _wanted_ to kiss him--it was all too much. His already complicated life had just decided to become even more complicated. 

That baffling revelation kept Iruka awake and staring at the ceiling for several long minutes until he promptly passed out.

**TBC**


	11. The Walls Around Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delay of this chapter was longer than I anticipated, with my participation in the [KakaIru Fest Winter Round 2014 Exchange](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Winter_Round_2014) (please check out the entries!) as well as moving and finding employment in a new area (what a drag!) and the length of this chapter got a bit out of hand ^^;
> 
> All and all, I am sincerely overwhelmed by all the positive support for this story, Thank you everyone!

The grey light of predawn was just creeping over the horizon when thirst roused Iruka from a dreamless sleep. For a few moments he frowned at the aged wooden planks overhead, trying to puzzle out why it was not the cracked plaster ceiling of his apartment. 

With a yawn he rubbed sleep from his eyes. Cool metal pressed against his skin. The golden wedding ring on his finger glinted in the dim light. The sight of it jolted Iruka like a slap to the face. “Oh, right” he groaned as he relaxed back into his pillow. Iruka very badly wanted to go back asleep and pretend that the ring was part of a bad dream, but he could not fool himself with childish fancies. What had been done was done, and there was no going back to his old life. It was better to face the storm that was the future with his feet firmly on the ground.

His dark eyes traveled from the ceiling to the water pitcher resting over the mahogany dresser. Iruka’s thirst returned with a vengeance, and in due haste he stumbled out of bed and drained half the pitcher without bothering to use the cup. An impending need to empty his bladder quickly followed suit, and  
with trepidation he tiptoed outside his room on wobbly legs in search of a bathroom. 

He was surprised to discover a narrow stairwell leading to the lower level of the house. Iruka was careful not to trip over the linen yukata shift as he crept downstairs with all the stealth that he possessed, though it was a little difficult with the walls swaying from the last dregs of alcohol in his system. Already the dull throb of a headache was building into one mother of a hangover. He idly regretted not bringing the pitcher along to refill it as he shut the door to the stairwell without a second thought. 

It took some effort to find the bathroom. The lower levels of the Hatake mansion were immense with many twisting corridors. He found the main entryway and the kitchen at some point, though he was too distracted to give time to study his new surroundings. At last he discovered the bathroom next to a washing room containing a spacious bathtub. 

To Iruka’s dismay he discovered that returning to his room proved to be troublesome. The old mansion was constructed during the more troubled times of Konoha’s history with hallways intentionally designed to confuse intruders and would-be-assassins. The doors that led to corridors melded seamlessly with the dark paneled walls, while the more obviously ornately carved doors were firmly sealed and locked, and most likely led to living quarters. 

_’Just my luck,’_ Iruka thought irritably as he brushed aside a loose strand of hair from tickling his nose. The ivory kanzashi comb had dislodged in bed and he had nothing to properly tie his hair back. He wandered back and forth on feather-light feet, trying to retrace his steps in the dimly lit halls with growing apprehension. He felt utterly foolish, losing his head to the allure of inebriation the night before; otherwise he would not have forgotten where—

Iruka yelped as a dark shadow sprang before him. On instinct he reached for a weapon inside his robe before realizing that he had none, and in a flash he fell into a defensive crouch with hands splayed in preparation of a seal. 

Iruka blinked owlishly at Kakashi standing at the end of the corridor. The elite jounin mirrored his expression with the active Sharingan eye, his normal eye was lost in the folds of swollen purpled flesh. 

“Oh,” Kakashi said as he sheepishly tucked a kunai into the hem of black sweatpants behind the small of his back. The man wore nothing else aside from his usual mask which was slightly askew as if he had donned it in haste. “Sorry, I’m not used to people in my house.” 

Iruka dropped his arms then forced his body to relax, and in doing so a wave of nausea threatened to lose what little dignity he had left. His head pounded like a drum and before his eyes the walls seem to sway back and forth. He vowed inwardly to never become drunk again. Iruka planted his feet and gripped his toes over the smooth grain of the floorboards and attempted a dignified glare to rival Hyuuga Yukari, but heat warming his face ruined the effect. Kakashi was all lean muscle and hard lines. Silvery scars crisscrossed an expanse of pale flesh that almost seemed to glow in the predawn light. Iruka realized that he was staring and in a panic he flustered “I—uh, can’t find the way back to my room.”

The jounin stared back intently at Iruka’s face, his blank expression made the younger man want to twitch. If Iruka were in a better state of mind he would have bristled at Kakashi’s odd behavior, but at the moment he only wanted to flee to refuge of his bed. 

Kakashi for his part was doing his best to maintain a straight face. Iruka was oblivious of how fumbling for a weapon had disheveled the linen robe to expose half his chest with one sleeve in danger of falling free over a shoulder. The exposed bicep hinted toned muscle that was usually hidden under a baggy uniform, and the thin fabric of the white linen shift left little to the imagination against the contrast of Iruka’s dark complexion. 

Kakashi cleared his throat and made a quick motion with his head. “Down the hall, third turn on the left. Look for the scuff marks on the lower half of the paneling.” He never once took his eyes from Iruka’s face as he spoke.

Blushing deeply, Iruka muttered his thanks and slipped past Kakashi in the narrow corridor, oblivious of how the loose sleeve of his robe brushed against Kakashi’s bare chest when the pale man stepped aside.

Kakashi exhaled a sharp breath when he heard the door leading to the stairwell slip shut. He remained where he was until he heard Iruka’s footsteps climb the stairs and recede into his room. The chuunin’s scent lingered in Kakashi’s nose, spicy-sweet over the faint reek of sake. Kakashi snorted in an attempt to dislodge the smell, but it was much harder to disregard the image captured by the Sharingan of the half-dressed chuunin caught with his hair down. That white linen shift had left _very_ little to the imagination.

 _’Get a hold of yourself, Hatake.’_ Kakashi was going to have to get used to more than a new roommate living in his house.

~*~*~*~*~

Iruka emerged from his room sometime in the late afternoon. He dressed in his normal shinobi attire excluding the flak vest. His head ached with a vengeance, though he was more mindful to mark his steps as he made his way towards the kitchen and the beacon that was Kakashi’s unguarded chakra presence. 

In the kitchen he found Kakashi lounging on the tatami mat floor next to a low dining table. The jounin had excluded his flak vest as well, but had donned his mask and hitate-ate. One hand held a green-bound _Icha Icha_ book while the other pried the bruised flesh around his normal eye so he could read without reliance of the Sharingan. 

The dining area was divided by a marble island for preparing food with a stove, sink, and refrigerator fixed into the adjacent wall. Everything looked well used, yet clean and pristine. Over the dining table a bowl of udon soup sat steaming on the table, along with a pair of fancy chopsticks and a small bowl of rice. 

Kakashi did not look up as he spoke as he turned a page in his book. “I didn’t think that your stomach could handle anything heavier at the moment.” He spoke as if there were no argument that the younger man would eat. “There’s more on the stove if this isn’t enough. There’s medicine for your headache for when you are done.”

Iruka felt a stab of irritation. He was not a child to be coddled. But perhaps his irritation was due to his embarrassment from the night before and earlier that morning. Kakashi must think him a fool. But then Iruka’s stomach growled, the enticing scent of the food reminded that he had hardly eaten the day before. He gave Kakashi a stiff bow in thanks before settling in a cushion to eat. 

The soup was divine. Bite-sized chunks of chicken and a bouquet of lightly seasoned vegetables swam among the thick noodles. It was mild enough for a sensitive stomach to handle and yet seasoned just enough to tantalize the tongue. The ingredients were far more elaborate than what Iruka’s budget could accommodate when he had lived on his own. Iruka would have never guessed Kakashi possessed a taste for advanced cooking. He ate everything down to the last kernel of rice. While Iruka ate Kakashi contently remained where he was with his back to the chuunin, silently reading his beloved book.

It was only a moment after he had placed his chopsticks over the empty soup bowl when Kakashi snapped the book shut and tossed a tiny satchel of powdered medicine onto the tabletop as well as a glass of water from under the table. He rose to collect the empty dishes, speaking over Iruka’s protests to help “After I’m done washing I’ll give you a tour of the house.”

Iruka watched Kakashi retreat behind the marble island to set about washing the dishes. A fragment of a thought from the previous night floated to the surface of memory, of how Kakashi’s demeanor had dramatically transformed into one that was guarded and distant. Apparently nothing had changed after Kakashi had chastely kissed Iruka goodnight. 

Recalling his confused emotions summoned color in Iruka’s cheeks. Iruka was loathe to admit that at the time he was willing to do more than kiss the jounin, but thankfully Kakashi had more sense than the drunk chuunin had possessed at the time. 

Iruka furiously tore open the satchel to sniff the powdered medicine within. It was an ingrained habit of any proper shinobi to examine a drug for contaminants. _’But really,’_ a small voice chided in back of Iruka’s mind _’Has Kakashi not done enough to earn a small measure of your trust?’_

Admitting that he had been intoxicated enough to throw himself at the jounin was one thing, but it was an entirely different matter to consider what would have happened that same morning if events had unfolded otherwise. Iruka shamefully knew his temper well enough to have rested the entire blame on Kakashi and none for himself. It was a bitter truth hard to swallow. Perhaps his temper was reason enough for Kakashi to be so guarded. It bothered Iruka, how that potential wedge could have so easily been planted at the start of their partnership. 

’Not a partnership’ he thought with a scowl. As if the ring on his finger wasn’t enough proof. He had better get used to the idea of being married, and fast. It still rankled how his life had spun from his control to land him with an unwanted husband in the short span of a week. That bitterness in itself was another thing Iruka had to consider, as both he and Kakashi were at a crucial stage that could set the tone of their relationship in the years to come. Iruka would have to care for the affairs of the Hatake estate; receiving dignitary house calls and the like, and care for Kakashi himself…to a certain extent. If he was expected to cook and clean for a smartass jounin, then he certainly was not above slipping itching powder into the laundry.

Iruka idly fiddled with the small medicine packet. The powdered grains tumbled from one corner of the paper satchel to the other as he considered. Kakashi had certainly tended to Iruka’s needs so far with breakfast and separate quarters of his own. It could well be that Kakashi was willing to restart their new partnership from a clean slate. Iruka was more than willing to take that opportunity. If it was one. 

Then again, Iruka could be over analyzing Kakashi’s odd behavior. They were practically strangers living under the same roof. Iruka would be a fool to assume the inner workings of the copy-nin’s mind. Three days was hardly sufficient time to be acquainted with one’s new spouse. He would have to learn Kakashi piece by piece and day by day, and see what revelations would come from it.

Just like the revelation he saw earlier that morning. The image of a bare-chested Kakashi floated to the surface of Iruka’s memory, with mask askew and pale muscles taut for action...

 _’Don’t you DARE go there,’_ Iruka firmly told his rebellious mind and swallowed the bitter medicine in due haste.

~*~*~*~*~

With the aid of medicine Iruka’s hangover had receded to a dull ache in the back of his head. With his senses (somewhat) restored he was able to devote his full attention on the guided tour of his new home.

There were about thirty empty apartments on the first floor alone, with another ten on the second floor above. All were designed to accommodate a couple or a small family. The mansion had been built to hold the residents of an entire familial clan in mind. The majority of the rooms were sealed due to the simple reason that Kakashi was its sole resident, and the jounin had no use for the extra space. 

From what the jounin eluded, the prime of the Hatake clan had been three generations before his time. He did not give explanation for the cause of his clan’s decline, and Iruka doubted that he wanted to hear it. It went without saying that the final straw for the remainder of clansmen to defect from their ancestral home had been the suicide of Hatake Sakumo. Iruka was aware of the ‘how’ surrounding the death of Kakashi’s father but only had vague knowledge surround the ‘why.’ What was widely known was that Sakumo died disgracefully in contempt of the village, and to most his suicide cemented the justification that had destroyed the respectability attached to the name of the Hatake clan. 

It made Iruka uncomfortable that he had gleaned that intimate slice of Kakashi’s history though idle gossip. Granted, it was long before Iruka had married the jounin, but it did not settle very well as Kakashi led him through the empty house. Iruka he would have to take care to not blunder into that delicate subject unless Kakashi brought it up first. 

Kakashi led Iruka through every twist and turn of the maze that floor level of the Hatake mansion. Light cedar paneling lined the ceiling, walls and floor, and it countered the claustrophobic effect of the narrow corridors. An occasional mirror at the end of the hallways helped, as well as tiny windows set high overhead to offer entry for natural light. The hallways were clean aside from the furthermost areas of the house where a light coating of dust tracked the passage of the two shinobi’s bare feet. Iruka suspected Kakashi used some sort of jutsu to blow away the cobwebs and dust when the presence of both became too unbearable. But despite a tolerable level of dust the air felt stale and carried faint traces of the musty scent of mildew, and every so often Iruka caught a whiff of a dead rodent or bird trapped inside the walls, slowly decaying like the rest of the unoccupied mansion.

The sliding doors leading to the now-deserted quarters of clansmen were made from lightweight wood with intricate carvings of polished trees or complex floral motifs. A few belonging to clansmen of status had animal motifs in place of the milder floral designs to stand as guardian before those that would dare encroach upon their domain. Whomever occupied those rooms had to have been of a foreboding disposition, as the wooden faces of the beasts seem to reflect the mood of the empty mansion; tigers, feral dogs, and other carved predators glared in accusation as the men glided by, their frozen snarls appeared to want attack the son of the traitor that had driven the occupants away. Beautifully carved as they were, Iruka did not like any of those doors one little bit.

The copy-nin opened several of the warded rooms to allow Iruka a peek inside. Most were entirely empty or contained faded wall hangings and a few pieces of furniture draped in canvas. “My relatives gutted the house before they left.” Kakashi stated blandly at some point. “I was too young at the time to do anything but watch.”

The vast emptiness seemed to emphasis Kakashi’s lonely existence. The mansion felt more like a hallow museum than a proper home. It was hard to imagine that it had once bustled with activity and echoed with the laughter of children. Iruka could not fathom how a boy could flourish in the silence all alone, but then Kakashi had been a prodigy with little time to spare at home.

One door in particular caught Iruka’s eye. It was unremarkable like all the others, save for a thick coating of dust over the carving of a persimmon tree heavy with fruit. It was a stark contrast to the other sealed rooms, as if it had not been opened for untold years. “What about that one?” Iruka asked when it became apparent that Kakashi was intent to walk past the persimmon door. 

“Ah, that one?” Kakashi’s gait paused for the briefest of moments, and then his feet carried him onward. “I found my father in there.”

The flat statement made Iruka stop dead in his tracks. His took in the sight of the door with the beautifully carved persimmon tree. Songbirds nestled amongst the branches as they feasted on the plump fruit. He could see it now, how dust and wispy remnants of cobwebs filled every crack in the wood. It was a tomb leading to dark memories. “I’m sorry” Iruka blurted, not knowing what else to say.

“Don’t be,” Kakashi replied. “It happened a long time ago.” His voice carried a note of finality that all but demanded the subject to be dropped.

~*~*~*~*~

A short time later Kakashi had escorted Iruka to the front of the house where he lived. Kakashi’s bedroom was located on the first floor, not too far from the kitchen and bathroom. It was comforting to Iruka that he had the entire upstairs as his private domain, in a way. And Kakashi assured that the empty rooms upstairs was free to use for whatever purpose that Iruka saw fit.

Iruka was surprised to discover a library behind Kakashi’s bedroom. Most of the books were antique manuals on shinobi warfare tactics, but there was also a varied selection of fiction novels as well. Iruka was not at all surprised to see a special corner dedicated to the colorfully bound _Icha Icha_ literature, complete with ‘pre-order special collector’s edition anatomically correct figurines’ on the shelf above. The jounin lightened up considerably as he presented his prized collection to the sputtering chuunin with obvious pride.

Kakashi concluded the tour at the main entrance of the house. The front door was an immense thing carved with visages of feral dogs wrestling among storm clouds. Kakashi opened the door to reveal a cobbled pathway lined with neatly trimmed bushes and fruit trees. A high stone wall bordered the estate at the far end. From what Iruka could see of the mansion’s exterior, it possessed dark blue tiles for a roof and dark wooden beams separating white washed walls. 

“Once your stomach has settled I will add your chakra pattern to the gate,” Kakashi said. “Then you can come and go as you please.” He gave Iruka an unreadable look as he slid the heavy door shut. “And…there is one more thing. It’s not much, but I prepared something for you.” 

Kakashi led the mystified chuunin through a door that blended seamlessly with the walls, one that was all but hidden from view next to the main entrance. The dark corridor contained no windows and was the narrowest Iruka had seen. He eyed the plain wooden door at the end with growing unease. It appeared to be a closet. Iruka folded his arms and shot a worried frown at the other man’s back _’Here it comes, the moment Kakashi reverts back to his old tricks.’_ The jounin’s company had felt unnatural without the ready smile and bantering dry humor. It would almost be reassuring if the closet contained household cleaning supplies complete with a frilly maid outfit and matching feather duster.

The door creaked beneath Kakashi’s fingers and blinding light poured into the hallway. Iruka’s hands clutched at his arms once his eyes adjusted to the glaring brightness. It was not a closet. 

It was an office. 

Sunlight streamed in from wide window overlooking the lush greens of the gardens outside. The peak of the Hokage monument was visible in the distance beyond the high garden walls. Beneath the window was a beautiful antique desk made from warm chestnut. Crawling up the rounded legs of the desk were fanciful carvings of flowering vines with tiny grasshoppers and mice hid among the vines as if playing a game of hide and seek. A small stack of freshly purchased notebooks and ink bottles were nestled in a cubby beneath inclined writing space. Empty book cases and shelves lined nearly every space of the walls, interspaced occasionally with tall standing lamps. The freshly polished furniture gleamed in the sunlight and held the freshly polished scent of lemons. The room was moderately sized but not confining to become claustrophobic once the bookshelves were bursting at full capacity. Kakashi had witnessed the state of Iruka’s office and had kept the sensei’s tendency to hoard documents in mind.

“This was once a part of the servant’s quarters.” Kakashi explained, motioning Iruka to step inside. He sounded apologetic “It’s not as elaborate as the other rooms, but I figured that it would be more comfortable since it’s close to the stairwell and kitchen.” 

Iruka was utterly stunned. He worked his jaw to speak “This is…for me?” he paused to swallow a hard lump down his throat. “Why?”

“An annoying subordinate of mine gave some good advice.” Kakashi shrugged. “I chose to follow it.” 

Iruka wasn’t sure how to take this unexpected gift. It was a dream came true. He was no longer tied to spending long evenings between the Academy and the Administration building. Kakashi gifted him a bright haven to escape the oppressive gloom of the rest of the house. Iruka stiffened to bow before Kakashi. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I do not deserve this.”

“Deserve?” Kakashi sniffed, sounding a little put-off. He turned to face the window, his pale fingers scrubbed at a spot of dust he had missed on the sill. He muttered “You are now my husband, it is only proper that I…accommodate my home for you.”

“Ah, of course,” Iruka readily agreed. The office had newness about it. The wood of the furniture was uniform in color but mismatched as if they have been hunted down and gathered from several locations throughout the mansion. Then it hit Iruka: Kakashi could not have prepared this room on a whim. Kakashi had made an effort to anticipate the needs of his new husband despite the high tensions between them before their wedding. A shameful blush warmed Iruka’s complexion as he recalled his suspicion mere minutes ago. It seemed that Kakashi was truly making an effort to start their new relationship from a clean slate, and Iruka was making a piss-poor start by not giving Kakashi the benefit of a doubt. 

Kakashi’s head jerked as if he suddenly recalled something. He abruptly turned from the windowsill to face the chuunin. “I hate to do this without warning, but I need to introduce you to the pack.”

Buried in his thoughts, Iruka was caught off guard. “The what?”

“The ninken pack,” Kakashi scratched his head with an exasperated sigh. “They would cause trouble if I wait any longer. By their protocol I should have allowed them to approve of you first, but with how fast the marriage contract went I entirely forgot.”

~*~*~*~*~

Ten minutes later, Iruka found himself in the garden. Several half-sunken pagoda statues lined the grassy patch of lawn. Kakashi stood next to one of the statues as he carefully watched the scene before him in a deceptively casual stance. Iruka was mindful to remain perfectly still as the eight ninken explored him with prodding noses and feet.

“Hm, I don’t smell much blood on this one.” A ninken with dark glasses said after sniffing Iruka’s hand. “What I can smell is very old. That is good.” 

“Ohh, I like him.” A slender hound covered in bandages said in a smooth feminine voice. “He smells of the village. I don’t think he leaves very often.”

“Maybe it’s because he’s weak,” the largest of the hound, a hulking bulldog said in a gruff voice. “He reeks of human children.”

“Don’t forget that I raised three litters of my own, Bull.” The slender hound snapped. “Would you think me weak as well?” Her challenge was answered with a grumbled apology from Bull.

“I’m a teacher at the Academy,” Iruka offered. He was acutely aware of sharp noses possessing even sharper teeth poking into his thighs and nether regions.

“I wanna play with them!” A light-furred hound with a kanji symbol marking its forehead clamored over its pack mates to get in front of the chuunin. Its mannerisms hinted that he was the youngest. The young ninken pressed its paws against Iruka’s knees imploringly. “No one here ever wants to play with me, you see…”

“What are you talking about, Bisuke? We play with you all the time!” A gruff voice from somewhere in the pack chided with all the authority of a leader. Iruka recognized the voice belonging to the same ninken Kakashi had summoned the other day at the Academy. The dark-faced pug wriggled through the throng to leap upon Bisuke’s back and glared up at Iruka with droopy eyes. “Huh. So this is the bitch that’s taking my place.” He sounded quite unimpressed.

“What did you call… _me?!”_ Iruka’s voice rose to a shrill squeak when Bisuke’s hard nose very pointedly buried into his crotch.

“I take offense to your tone of that title, young man.” The slender hound said with a proud toss of her head. “It’s what we always call ninken such as myself and the honored mates of an alpha leader.”

“I wouldn’t get on Uuhei’s bad side if I were you,” the tiny pug warned with a dramatic roll of its eyes. “She has a temper, you see---”

“I do NOT!” The female hound snarled.

“Whatever,” the pug said unconcernedly as if the argument was a longstanding one. The large eyes settled on the face of the chuunin, its wide prominent nostrils flared to take in Iruka’s scent. “I think the bitch checks out. He smells stable, and that’s good enough for me.” The little dog’s verdict was answered by affirmative growls from the rest of the pack.

Kakashi’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thanks, Pakkun.”

“Don’t mention it, Boss.” Pakkun replied. Then all at once the ninken pack dispersed in a cloud of smoke, leaving the jounin and one flustered chuunin alone in the garden patch.

The muscles in Iruka’s mouth worked irritably. He very much disliked being called… _that_ word, even if it was considered a title of honor. Despite his irritation Iruka did not have the heart to press his temper on Kakashi, not when the copy nin looked so immensely relieved that his ‘bitch’ had been approved by the ninken pack. 

Iruka took a deep breath instead as he followed the copy-nin back to the cobblestone path. His headache was starting to return, and his body complained for the need of a hot soaking bath followed by sleep. And he needed to think, there was a lot of information Iruka needed to process and reevaluate. “I’m going upstairs for the day.” Iruka said once they were inside the house. He made a deep bow before the jounin. “Thank you for today, I appreciate all that you have done for me.” 

“So polite, Iruka-sensei” Kakashi surprised the chuunin with a deep chuckle. “If you are not careful I might start to suspect that you are able to tolerate me.”

Iruka managed to hide his smile. Somehow he had made a crack in the copy-nin’s withdrawn demeanor. It was a welcoming fragment of Kakashi’s personality that Iruka had honestly missed throughout the day.

Kakashi fiddled with a piece of lint he had found in his pocket. “If you are not joining me for dinner tonight then I should say my goodbyes now. I’m leaving in the morning for a mission outside of the Fire Country. It might last as long as two months.”

“So soon?” Iruka blinked. “B-but…you just got _married!”_

“I accepted this mission before you accepted my marriage contract.” Kakashi flicked the piece of lint onto the floor. “The Sandaime Hokage has been generous to delay my mission so that I may marry his adopted son, but even the Hokage’s generosity has his limits.”

“I see,” Iruka was able to mask his disappointment. He was not looking forward living alone in the vast Hatake mansion the day after he had moved in. And he had wanted the chance to explore this strange new relationship forming between himself and Kakashi. Today had been the first day of a partnership that was supposed to last for the rest of their lives. Iruka mentally shook himself. He had to focus on the here and now. “I would appreciate if you could leave me notes of what chores I should do around the house.”

Kakashi gave the chuunin-sensei an odd look. “This place is as much your home as it is mine.” Kakashi made a motion with one hand to include the entire Hatake estate. “You will be spending more time here than me. So do whatever you like, aside snooping around my bedroom and boxing away my _Icha Icha_ collection. You can even knock down some walls and replace all the furniture for all I care.”

Iruka’s eyes had widened to saucers. He never, ever would have fathomed that Kakashi would grant him so much freedom within the house. “I’ll do my best,” he said faintly as he shuffled past the jounin to make his way upstairs. He paused to give his new husband one last look before opening the door to the stairwell. “Please be safe.”

“Always,” Kakashi replied with a tilting smile beneath his mask.

~*~*~*~*~

With the Kakashi gone Iruka had settled back into the familiar routine working his two jobs. Iruka certainly had no need for the extra income now that he was married to the wealthy Hatake Kakashi, but it was on his own principle to have financial independence earned by his own hand. It went without saying that his earnings were now more generous without a goodly sum of it going to support the Sarutobi clan or a shoddy apartment. Iruka’s eyes had nearly popped out of his head when he had received his first paycheck without those deductions. 

Despite his recent boost in personal income Iruka was loath to lighten the work load between his two jobs. The truth was he honestly would not know what to do with all the free time on his hands. Kakashi’s gift of an in-home office already provided a window of freedom than what Iruka was used to enjoying, and he took full advantage to relax at home with a bento box dinner in hand as he scribbled through paperwork. 

There was no denying the fact that he had wedded Hatake Kakashi, so Iruka had resigned to wear his wedding ring outside the house. Iruka had a suspicion that not doing so would be detrimental to the newfound respectability of the Sarutobi and Hatake clans. Gossip and rumor spread in Konoha as readily as in any normal village, and a person of interest was closely scrutinized in anticipation of their first misstep. Whatever Iruka did or did not do, like the simple act of disregarding his wedding ring, could be taken as a sign that the union was unstable and ready to break. Neither Iruka nor Kakashi could afford even that rumor to spread, not when the political weight of their clans was in its most fragile state. Such were the subtle intricacies in the game of politics. It was trying at times, to keep in mind all the advice that had been plied upon him throughout the years by Akemi and the Sandaime Hokage.

There had been a few incidents shortly following Iruka’s return to work. The bulk of it involved coworkers and students eager to swallow some juicy tidbit about the notorious copy-nin. Iruka had anticipated those confrontations and had firmly shut them down before they could gain momentum. The children knew better than to press their luck but Iruka had to emphasis his point less subtly with the adults by cracking his knuckles whenever a conversation ventured too close to probing into his marriage. His personal life was not up for conversation, period. The staff at both offices readily took the hint as they knew Iruka well enough than to invite his wrath. 

It was another matter dealing with the rest of the shinobi population. 

It came to a head one afternoon in the Missions room a week after Kakashi had left. The incident with the sake caske was no secret among the residents of Konoha. It was a juicy topic for speculation with many unwilling to believe that a mere _chuunin_ school teacher knocked the legendary Sharingan Kakashi out cold over the alter on their wedding day. 

And with the copy-nin gone it had only been a matter of time before some poor soul worked up the nerve to confront the ‘mere chuunin school teacher’ to see if those rumors rang true.

Iruka’s pen halted mid-sentence over a file report when a dull thump hit the surface of his desk. He calmly regarded the special jounin who had placed a small wooden sake cask atop his completed mission report. “It is not after hours, Ebisu-san.” Iruka’s expression was carefully blank. “So unless you are inviting me out for a drink I assume you have a valid reason for cluttering my desk with _this?”_ He jabbed the point of his pen at the sake cask. 

Iruka had not taken into account how his clear voice had carried throughout the room. The buzz of conversation among the long lines of shinobi abruptly ceased. A dropped pin could be heard in the silence. Not a single face directly stared at the chuunin, but Iruka was keenly aware that every eye was fixed in anticipation of what he would do next, and he noted that some of those eyes gleamed with wolfish eagerness. 

Ebisu adjusted his sunglasses before making a prim reply “Well, I was in Suna during your wedding, you see. I just wanted to express my congratulations on your union with Kakashi-san.” The man had the gall to not bother hiding his smirk. “And rumor told me that you are fond of sake wine, in or _out_ of the cask.” The emphasized word prompted a snigger from the back of the crowd. 

Iruka’s right hand twitched for the want to rub the bridge of his nose where his scar fell. It had been a vain hope that his inebriation at the wedding had been overlooked by the gossipmongers. Instead of rubbing his nose Iruka gave the special jounin a smile warm enough to make flowers bloom but with a hint of thorns pricking the edges. It was the smile that would have sent his students scrambling to hide under their seats. “Thank you, Ebisu-san. On behest of my husband we wholeheartedly accept your generosity.” He could hear Genma trying not to choke on the senbon. Everyone who had the pleasure of experiencing Iruka’s temper knew that too-sweet smile all too well. 

Iruka picked up a neatly ordered stack of documents resting on one corner of his desk. He had been saving them for a bully like Ebisu to appear. “You mentioned that you’ve just returned from Suna?” His tone was almost casual as he thumbed through the papers. “The heat must have been brutal this time of year. I will be sure to pull some strings to assign you to a more favorable region…ah, here’s one.” 

A document slipped free from the stack. “The Nigawa clan requests a Konoha representative to act as delegate between a territorial dispute… something about wandering goats and fence posts moving on their own. The mountain air should cool your head, but I would advise packing extra luggage. I hear that the blizzards make traveling impossible and can last for months at a time.”

Ebisu’s eyebrows had jumped to hide beneath the blue headscarf. “Hey now—“

“But there is also the pressing matter of the fish processing plants in the Midawa prefecture.” Iruka examined another document as if he had not heard the other man’s protest. “Apparently bits of cockroach have been found in their recent exports. I would imagine the sea air would be quite refreshing compared to Sauna’s dry heat, but I fear the fragrant breeze of rotting fish and screaming seagulls could dampen the charm...” 

The special jounin was obviously regretting his attempt to bait the chuunin. “Perhaps I should go.” Ebisu reached to reclaim the sake cask but was thwarted by a sharp rap over the knuckles by Iruka’s pen.

“No no,” Iruka gently reprimanded. “As you said, I am very fond of sake wine, though my husband has had the pleasure to learn that I prefer it _inside_ the cask.” Iruka’s mild tone belied a smile that revealed his teeth. With a hum he idly tapped his pen against the sake cask “I think a jounin of your caliber can do with an assignment in the Akasuka providence. I had a mission there once. I can guarantee that the swamplands provide more than enough shade from the sun. I still have nightmares about the fist-sized mosquitoes, but they weren’t nearly as bad as the giant millipedes. Now _those_ have a nasty bite if you disturb the nests they make inside the bedrolls--”

“I think I’m going to leave now,” Ebisu said faintly. He looked distinctively ill beneath his sunglasses.

“Yes, I do believe that’s best.” Iruka agreed regretfully. His dark eyes slid away from Ebisu to deliver a weighted look at the stunned shinobi waiting in line, and he was satisfied to see many appeared ready to flee. As a teacher, Iruka found it was most effective to finish a lesson by driving the point home. “I have so many urgent requests but I’m limited to assign them to one candidate at a time.” He gave Ebisu another sugary-sweet smile before the special jounin had the chance to retreat back into the crowd. “Do remember to pack some repellent before claiming your next assignment. I thank you for your continuing service to our village.”

For the rest of the day Iruka left the sake cask where it was over his desk. To any of the wide-eyed shinobi that had not witnessed the exchange that inquired, Iruka would smile and simply explain “It’s a wedding gift from Ebisu-san. I expressed my gratitude most graciously.” 

By the end of the day word quickly spread of special jounin’s fate. Afterwards no shinobi dared try to cross Hatake Umino Iruka within his domain. 

~*~*~*~*~

In the two weeks after Kakashi’s departure Iruka made some effort to explore his new home. Despite Kakashi’s permission to ‘do whatever he would like to the house’ Iruka was hesitant to leave his personal mark on anything not already available inside the mansion. He felt like an intruder at the best of times, one that was completely out of place in the faded grandeur of the Hatake estate. Even during the day with the sun held high in the sky he pointedly avoided the Persimmon carved door. The bad memories inside was not for Iruka to intrude, so he left it alone.

Iruka set upon himself the task of refurbishing the abandoned sitting room located near the main entrance. At some point his duties as spouse would be to receive clients for contracts to Kakashi’s services along with hosting formal visits from both dignitaries and shinobi leaders. Hyuuga Yukari had made it a point to drill into Iruka’s head how the appearance of one’s home could affect a potential deal for the better or for the worst, and Iruka had every intention to make the first impression a lasting one when dignitaries stepped into the Hatake mansion. 

Kakashi’s had spoke true stating the house had been gutted of valuables, but between several rooms Iruka salvaged dusty pieces of furniture and some knick-knacks of decorative pottery to be carefully cleaned and painstakingly polished with a delicate hand. New cushions and wall hangings had to be purchased, as most of what he found were faded or moth eaten. Over the course of the two weeks Iruka was satisfied to see his efforts pay off as the sitting room gradually took a semblance of a respectable state. 

Iruka had been so preoccupied with refurbishing the sitting room that he had spared little energy to any other chore than light cleaning. Kakashi had stocked enough fresh food in the house to feed one inhabitant, and Iruka had readily ate what was in store, but he had not possessed the foresight to take notes of what had been stocked in the larders until after they had been utterly depleted.

It was this dilemma that had prompted Iruka to wake early one Saturday morning to visit the Konoha marketplace. It all too tempting to give into the his usual weekend routine to sleep into the early afternoon, as the morning crowds made it the worst time to shop, but with the stalls competing for customers it was also the most opportune time to get the best deals. 

Iruka had thought that he at least had a vague plan of what to buy from the marketplace, but after half an hour his wicker basket remained empty aside from a packet of hard noodles and dried soup stock. Iruka wanted to tell himself that he was overwhelmed by the sheer number of culinary possibilities, but the sad truth was he possessed little knowledge of how to prepare food that did not originate from a box. 

Iruka was trying to decide if some long yellow tubers were vegetables or fruit when he heard his name called by a feminine voice from the bustle of the crowd. _’Great,’_ Iruka thought with an inward groan as he turned to greet the woman, identifying her as Shimaoka Midori, the mother of a former student. The middle aged woman reminded Iruka of a sparrow, with quick darting eyes and a pointed nose that enhanced the resemblance. She possessed a tongue as sharp as her nose, and with her flock of cronies following her lead she could pick apart a person like a juicy worm.

“Oh, if it isn’t Iruka-sensei!” Midori elbowed through the shoppers with a crowd of housewives following in tow. “Marriage seems to agree with you--oh, congratulations by the way.”

“Oh my, yes.” A plump housewife tittered before Iruka could respond. “I would have thought Kakashi-san would have wrung him out by now---“ 

“That is _so_ true!” Midori readily agreed. “Kakashi-san has a reputation, you see…” her eyes glittered as she paused a brief moment. “And who could tell what goes on inside that strange man’s head?”

All at once the housewives fixed their attention on the hapless chuunin. Iruka would have slipped away if he could, but he was pinned in by the housewives with the stall of weird tubers at his back. His smile turned onto a sickly grimace as five too-friendly smiles blossomed beneath calculating stares. 

“So tell us…” a petite housewife asked with an unsettling look in her eyes. “Is it true that Kakashi-san has a love doll for all the empty rooms in the house?”

“What? No!” Iruka sputtered. He automatically held the wicker basket up to his chest in an unconscious effort to fend the women off. “I never—“

“Did you check the basement, or the attic?” a second housewife cut in with a sly smirk. “Every husband has their secrets. It all depends on how determined you are to ferret them out.”

“Even so, he parades those filthy books in the presence of children!” a third woman scowled. “You of all people should know how impressionable young minds are. You must do something about that awful habit of his, Iruka-kun.” 

Iruka immensely disliked the familiar use of his given name. Facing an enemy out in the field was far easier than handling these women. He gave the housewives a self-depreciating smile in hopes to divert the conversation. “Well you see, Kakashi-san always has the protection and prosperity of our village in mind—“

“I hear that he keeps trophies!” The plump housewife said with a delicious shudder. “Is it true that he has the severed head of that Akatsuki-nin Kakuzu nailed to the wall? Not that I would want to see it, of course…”

“I wouldn’t know,” Iruka clipped. A spark of temper gave bite to his tone. He had no idea such ridiculous rumors surrounded Kakashi. Iruka reminded himself that he had to keep some semblance of his manners around these women, lest he invite their ire to interfere with his work at the Academy.

Midori huffed in exasperation. “Either way, there is no excuse for your husband to go about flaunting his… _reading_ around our village!” Her eyes narrowed on Iruka, and she made what Iruka assumed was supposed to be an ingratiating smile. “You have seen beneath the mask, I assume?” 

Five expectant faces turned upon Iruka, all gleaming with anticipation. 

Iruka couldn’t help himself. He made a show of glancing around before lowering his head into the small circle of women. His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper “Well, about that…” The housewives eagerly pressed forward, hanging on his every word. “To tell the truth…it’s none of your business what goes on between me and my husband.” 

Iruka straightened from the circle of stunned women, a smile wrought from sunshine beaming off his face. “Enjoy your shopping, ladies.” He slipped past the housewives and into the meandering flow of shoppers.

He had a full minute to feel good about how he had handled the ordeal until a voice at his back murmured “Pay those biddies no mind, my dear boy. Without a war going on there’s little else for them to gossip about.” 

Iruka had the good grace to not jump when Morino Kanao materialized at his side. The plump little old women looked all the world like she was an ordinary civilian shopping inside the bustling marketplace, with a full basket of vegetables hooked under one arm. “I realize that” he replied as he wearily eyed Kanao, who was dressed in a nondescript grey kimono patterned with embroidered white lilies. He was not fooled by the grandmotherly smile. Iruka remembered quite clearly how the little old woman had threateningly wielded a pair of chopsticks before him after the wedding ceremony. In addition, Iruka had an unsetting suspicion that Kaeno had orchestrated his chance encounter with the housewives. Retirement can do funny things to ex-ANBU. 

Kaeno frowned at the nearly empty basket in Iruka’s hand. “One cannot live off of soup stock and noodles alone. You need to add vegetables to your meals.”

Iruka flushed in spite of himself. He had lived off a pauper’s diet for so long that he had trouble expanding his options. Fresh produce and meat had been a luxury when he had a limited budget to support himself, and what little he could afford had to last longer than a week in the fridge. He averted his eyes from the Kaeno’s penetrating look. “I…um, I don’t…” his voice trailed off miserably. 

“Eh, what’s that?” Kaeno cupped a hand to her ear. “Spit it out!” 

Heat inflamed Iruka’s face. “I _don’t_ know how!” he grated. 

Keano’s eyes flickered between the crimson-faced chuunin and his sparse wicker basket. She quickly put two and two together with a dry quirk of her lips. “I suppose we should start with what’s in season.” She shoved her own basket for the young chuunin to carry then snatched Iruka’s elbow to drag him into the heart of the marketplace where the stalls exploded with a countless variety of colorful fruit and vegetables. 

Kaeno pointed to a random stall containing squat dark green gourds the size of a child’s head. “That there is a kabocha, a type of sweet pumpkin. Other than being an excellent source of vitamins it has a mild flavor that is good on its own, yet it can be added to both stews and desserts.”

“I know what it is,” Iruka said testily as he tried to wrest his elbow from Kaeno’s iron grip. He wasn’t _that_ ignorant.

“But do you know how to test for quality?” Kaeno plucked a random pumpkin from the stall and held it up to Iruka’s ear. “Don’t ever assume a vegetable it is ripe from appearance alone.” Her bony fingers tapped the surface, eliciting a dull thump. “This one needs another week before its ready.” She replaced the pumpkin and selected another, which produced a more hollow sound. “Remember that sound. It’s the pumpkin’s way of saying that it is ready to eat.”

“Oh,” Iruka regarded the pumpkin in the old woman’s hand. “Does Kakashi like kabocha?”

“I can’t say,” Kaeno admitted. “But I can guarantee that any shinobi enjoys a hot meal to fuel his body.” She shook her head with disbelief. “I don’t know how you appear so healthy living off that slop you consider soup!”

Iruka’s scowl deepened. He was not going to admit that the bulk of his nutrients were gained from his free lunches at the Academy cafeteria.

Kaeno read his reluctance and placed the kabocha pumpkin back on the stall. She made an exasperated sound through her teeth. “And I suppose that I’d have to teach you how to cook as well. I’ll get you started with the basics of meal preparation, at least. If you are free this evening you are welcomed to help me prepare dinner, and eat some of it too.”

Iruka was stunned by Kaeno’s generous offer. He dismissed all previous qualms he had about the elder woman. “Thank you, Morino-san.” Iruka said breathlessly as he sketched a bow under the heavy weight of her basket. The old woman certainly had a weakness for potatoes. “If there’s anything I can do in return—“ 

“Yes, yes,” Kaeno waved the chuunin off distractedly as she studied the next produce stall containing pale daikon radishes that were nearly as long as her arm. “A few weeds pulled from my garden now and then would be much appreciated, as my old back is not what it used to be.”

“Fair enough,” Iruka smiled, and blinked when the plump old woman disappeared before his eyes. He had only a moment to jerk around and snatch a flying daikon radish sailing through the air before it could break over his head.

Kaeno grinned as she tossed a few coins to the befuddled farmer. She darted to another stall containing apples and proceeded to fling several at the startled sensei. With the daikon radish still in hand Iruka had to spin around to catch each in his basket before they hit the ground. 

“Your reflexes are good!” Kaeno cackled “But you will have to be much quicker to keep up with a granny like me, and mind not to bruise the fruit.”

Some hours later found Iruka waddling home under the strain of not one but _four_ baskets of fresh produce and meat, as well as the feeling that what had happed today between him and his neighbor was the start of a very strange friendship.

~*~*~*~

It was hard for Iruka to believe that a mere three weeks had passed since the hasty marriage to Hatake Kakashi. For the most part the days had flown by, as Iruka was the type to keep busy, but time seemed to crawl to a halt once night descended over the Hatake estate. The vast silence was unsettling compared to the inherent noise of an apartment complex, and it was difficult to push aside the bad memories that resided in empty house. 

More than once Iruka had started awake in the dead of night with weapon in hand to confront an intruder lurking about only to discover that it had been rats or timbers settling in the cooling night. Creeping about in the dead silence exploring the darkness with his senses strained to the limit was not the most relaxing formula for a good night’s rest. It was preposterous to consider that the estate might be haunted, though the apprehension sometimes trailed after him in sleep. 

Iruka would dream of the persimmon door. He stood outside the brightly polished door, the branches of the tree swaying gently from an nonexistent wind as the carving glowed in the flickering candlelight. Behind the door he could hear a young boy trying desperately to muffle his sobs. Iruka wanted with all his heart to open the door and comfort Kakashi inside, but he could never bring himself to reach for the door, even when the animal carvings stalked the corridors with amber eyes glittering beyond the candlelight. After a few nights with that reoccurring dream Iruka found that he preferred to keep to the living quarters near the front of the house. 

Iruka’s personal office was the one place where he felt most at ease during those lonely evenings. Inside his sanctuary he could lose himself in the monotonous rhythm grading paperwork and debriefing unclassified mission reports, with a pot of tea or a beer easily at hand in the kitchen. Gradually, almost without his notice, the empty space on the bookshelves began to fill with small origami gifts and crayon drawings from his students.

An unseasonable cold snap had gripped the lands. To Iruka’s mind the seasonal shift from summer into autumn had yielded without much of a fight. A steep drop in temperature prompted the leaves to change color much too early, already several less hardy trees had been persuaded by the early onset of winter to drop all their foliage. Both the office and the bedroom provided a heater, but by longstanding habit he found it preferable to layer his clothing than to hike up the electricity bill. 

Three weeks. Three weeks had passed since Iruka had seen Kakashi last. It was not as if Iruka was marking the days or anything, he only wanted the presence of the jounin to break the oppressive silence of the house, that was all. Kakashi had said that his mission could last for two months.

Three weeks and a day. 

~*~*~*~*~

It had been three weeks and four days on a rainy afternoon when Iruka finally received word Kakashi and his team had returned to the village. 

He had heard the news from a fellow teacher at the Academy. Takano-sensei had every reason to be excited as her brother was one of the two shinobi assigned to Kakashi’s team. She affirmed that Kakashi appeared to be in good health before the three were whisked away by ANBU guards for a private debriefing by the Hokage himself. Iruka knew firsthand that the meeting was to be a lengthy one with the Hokage involved, so he had a few hours to prepare before Kakashi returned home.

Iruka’s heart thumped loudly in his chest as he flew through the afternoon classes. He dismissed the students a half an hour early, as he needed the extra time to pull some favors at Registrations to find a replacement for his evening shift. Once done, he sped to the Hatake estate with a mental list ready to prepare dinner without making an emergency trip to the market. Iruka had spent almost every evening in the last week with Morino Kaeno, and he was eager to show off his newfound culinary skills. 

Kaeno had been quite firm to remind her young pupil that he was far from possessing the culinary skill to create anything that might befit a two star restaurant, so Iruka settled on a simple meal in anticipation of a returning shinobi’s appetite: _tonkatsu donburi,_ fried pork cutlet over a steaming bowl of rice, with a mix of sautéed onions and eggs cooked in a savory sauce for color and flavor. A bowl of wakame miso soup went as a side along with a colorful display of pan-fried seasonal vegetables, all carefully sliced and arranged by color in a shallow dish. As an afterthought Iruka added in a generous serving of braised tofu simmered in ground pork and chives to the table, as Kakashi likely needed the extra protein after a month living off field rations. 

The meal was by no means anything to combat with Kakashi’s cooking skills (if that bowl of udon he had prepared for the chuunin’s breakfast was anything to go by) but Iruka took pride that the meal was made by his hand alone, and was hearty enough to welcome a shinobi returning from a grueling mission out in the cold.

Iruka sat with his elbows propped on the table, one hand supported his chin while the other a tapped a finger against the table in rhythm to the ticking clock. Rain continued to pound the roof overhead. Dinner was getting cold. His stomach growled with impatience but he was determined not to eat until Kakashi arrived. 

Iruka started from a half-doze when he heard the heavy clatter of the entry door out in the hallway sliding open. He was not alarmed as the wards permitted only two chakra signatures to enter without fuss. He hastily straightened his ponytail in place as he rose from the table. By habit Iruka masked his chakra presence as he tiptoed kitchen door to peer through a small crack.

Kakashi was in the entryway staring up at the ceiling. He stood as still as a statue, puzzlement furrowed what could be seen of his features as he regarded the lit entryway light. Rainwater plastered the silver hair to his scalp, and he was muddied from the knees down as if he had made it a point to tread through every puddle on the way home. Iruka was relieved to see that the swollen flesh on the other man’s face had receded for only a faint bruise to remain. Apart from the bruise there were no apparent injuries. Kakashi was home, and he was safe.

Iruka was too distracted by relief to give much thought to jounin’s odd stance. With a warm smile he lowered his chakra barriers to allow his presence to be felt as he stepped into the hallway. “Welcome home.”

Kakash’s head jerked. The steely grey eye had widened with outrage and furious indignation. A wave of killing intent focused on the chuunin. Shock froze Iruka in place, with one bare foot in the hallway and a hand over the door. He wanted to reach for a weapon in the holster strapped to his thigh, but before that deadly aura even the slightest twitch of a finger might prove fatal.

The tense exchange lasted in the span of a single moment before recognition cooled the fury in Kakashi’s eye. The eyelid drooped into its normal languid expression and the jounin’s posture sagged with fatigue to tug every angle of his frame. Kakashi grumbled something that sounded like a curse under his breath as he briskly stepped into the hallway without bothering to take off his shoes. He did not seem to acknowledge Iruka now that the younger man had been dismissed as a threat.

A chill had set inside Iruka’s spine. _’Why would he--?’_ realization was razor sharp with incredulity. _’He forgot about me!’_ With a will Iruka loosened his tight grip on the door and composed himself by stepping into the hall with a forced smile. “You must be hungry, I made dinner--”

“I’m not” Kakashi snapped as he brushed Iruka aside as if the chuunin was no more than an irritating fly. “I’m going to sleep after a bath. Don’t bother me.” Iruka could only stand with his mouth open as mud tracked down the hallway leading to the bathroom. Kakashi shot a meaningful glare as he reached to flick the light switch off. Iruka did not need to see through the darkness to catch the other man’s glower when he barked “And turn off the damn lights!” The snap of the bathroom door cut off any chance for Iruka to find the words to protest. 

Stunned at the abrupt dismissal, Iruka woodenly returned to the kitchen without bothering to close the door and dropped heavily into his seat before the table. His appetite had been replaced with a sour sensation. The sight of the meal he had taken great pains to prepare was all but a slap to the face. _’What else did you expect?’_ a voice sneered in the back of his mind _’That Kakashi would be pleased to be reminded that he married you?’_

Iruka’s mouth drew into a tight line. The wedding ring felt like a leaden weight. He clenched his fingers into a fist as he fought the urge to rip it off and hurl it into the darkness where Kakashi had disappeared. He contented himself by throwing the uneaten food into the refrigerator with more force than necessary. He did not bother wrapping up plates or replacing lids and gave no heed to a bowl breaking inside the fridge. He would have to clean it later, he was as certain of that as well as the mud drying in the hall.

Iruka gave in to a small crack in his temper by slamming the door of his office with enough strength to crack the wood. He furiously graded papers into the late hours of the night, but neither the determined slashing of his pen nor grinding his teeth could silence the sardonic voice laughing in his head.

~*~*~*~

The harsh cry of a crow woke Iruka sometime after dawn. A stiff crimp popped in his neck as he groggily straightened in his seat. He peeled a loose paper stuck to his cheek, noting with disgust that it was covered in drool. His bad mood retuned in full force as he recalled why he had disregarded the comfort of his bed to fall asleep over his desk. 

It was no small surprise that Kakashi’s chakra presence was nowhere to be felt in the house. The only evidence that marked the jounin’s return where muddy footprints led from the main door into the hallway. Iruka scowled at the dried tracks. The heat of his temper bubbled above a low simmer the longer he stood. 

“He forgot,” Iruka muttered darkly as he set about finding a bucket and a rag to clean the mess. It wasn’t as if Iruka was angry about the botched dinner—well, maybe he was, but the root of it was how Kakashi had dismissed him as if he were an unwanted stray rooting for table scrapes in the garbage bin. A snarl fixed upon the chuunin’s lips as he cursed himself five-ways a fool. He had worked himself up to provide a warm welcoming home that turned out to be an utter waste of his time.

_’Kakashi has seen more bloodshed than you ever had.’_

The unbidden thought made Iruka pause before he resumed scrubbing the worn planks with a vengeance. He wrung the rag over the bucket, imagining it was the stupid copy-nin’s neck. It went to show what the jounin thought of their marriage. When Iruka he had been counting the days that asshole had the _nerve_ to forget all about him!

 _’He is a leader, and a killer. People die under his watch.’_

The muddied rag squelched beneath Iruka’s grip. It was becoming a struggle to hang onto his anger against the voice of his conscience. Iruka was a teacher that trained children for war, a fact made bitter with every name of his fallen pupils scarred deep into his soul. Every name was a failure on his part to provide the skills necessary to help keep them alive. Iruka had a small inkling of what Kakashi might feel.

_’Kakashi is human, after all.’_

In an outburst of frustration Iruka hurled the rag to the floor. It hit the ground with a wet slap that echoed throughout the empty mansion. The muddied water made a wide arch that uncomfortably resembled splattered blood. He was uncertain why he was so desperately trying to keep a hold of his anger. Perhaps it was a niggling fear that it might uncover something he was not yet ready to face. 

“Childish!” Iruka growled as he stomped his way to the front door. His grumbling continued as he slipped into his shoes then marched outside without bothering to take his flak vest. “Pigheaded! Stupid! Stubborn--!” Iruka bit off his tirade with a grimace. He wasn’t quite sure if he was reprimanding Kakashi or himself.

Iruka had a suspicion of where Kakashi could be, and he was going to let the jounin know firsthand that Umino Iruka was not one to be so easily dismissed. 

~*~*~*~

Kakashi had a list of names inside his head. It was a long list by anyone’s account and it was one that would not hold any meaning to anyone other than himself. He kept the list close to his heart, as it contained all the names he had failed, and it was his personal mantra to recite before the memorial stone dedicated to the honored dead.

He hardly felt the cold of the morning with the onset of autumn fast approaching. The sky was darkly overcast with a promise of a storm while brittle leaves skittered about at the mercy of a chilling wind. The bleak weather matched Kakashi’s dark mood.

Not every mission ended successfully. The monument did not contain the names of shinobi who had defected or fallen clients and civilians. Konoha would need more than one monument to include those names. The dead etched in the memorial stone were only granted to those whose bodies had not been recovered while in service to the village. Kakashi’s list had no restrictions for those that had not been deemed worthy enough to be chiseled in stone.

He did not know exactly when reciting that list had become a routine. A small part of Kakashi’s mind warned that this practice was unhealthy, but as usual he ignored the advice of his subconscious as he mentally ticked through the list through a sequential order of remembered faces. More often than not there was an addition of a name, and sometimes more than one. After seventeen years since beginning the list Kakashi was afraid to count how many he had in store. 

Always on the foremost of was Obito’s name, closely followed by Rin. Kakashi rarely spoke to the dead, but when he did it was his former teammates that he addressed to represent his list. “I tried to protect them, you must understand.” Kakashi pleaded in a hoarse whisper. “Hanima-san did not inform dispatch that he would bring his family along, and the Unagi-clan got the jump on us in the forest.” Kakashi shuddered. “Hanima bolted when he realized we were outnumbered, and the baby wouldn’t stop crying.” Kakashi did not add that the abrupt silence would haunt him for years to come. 

Five names. Five more names to be added to his list. 

Kakashi pressed his forehead to the icy cool stone. “I’m…” 

He was what? 

Exhausted beyond belief. 

Numbed by feeling. 

Aching with an emptiness that hurt. 

Guilt crushing his heart. 

His soul an inferno of rage. 

He was all that and more, so much more than he dare utter in a single breath.

Sometimes the tangle that was his thoughts and emotions was enough to pull him beneath the surface of sanity. It would almost be a relief to do without his conscience, but he needed it to remind himself that he was _alive_ in the human sense. Kakashi dreaded the day when he finally gave in to the temptation to drown and feel nothing at all, what floated to the surface would be less than an empty shell. Whatever there was left of himself would become hard and as cold as the tombstone pressed against his skin. 

When Kakashi shattered there will be nothing left to salvage.

Kakashi stiffened upright when he detected a presence gingerly approaching several paces behind his back. An irritable growl rumbled in his throat “What are you doing here?” he did not need to turn to identify the intruder.

Iruka hugged himself against the wind. Without the flak vest his standard uniform offered little protection against the cold. Iruka did not immediately answer as he glared at Kakashi’s turned back. The chuunin had reworked himself into a fine temper as he ran half the length of Konoha village, but the heated speech he had prepared had tapered away at the sight of the forlorn jounin. “You were gone when I woke,” Iruka grounded sullenly, realizing with a cringe that he sounded petulant. Why was he still struggling onto his anger? “And you tracked mud all over the house.” A bitter fragment of his irritation persisted to add that last bit. 

Kakashi did not respond. He was rigid as the lifeless tombstone but his chakra flared to speak volumes; a wounded animal baring its teeth in warning to keep a wide distance. All Kakashi wanted was for the younger man to leave so he could nurse his injuries alone. 

Iruka’s blunt nails dug through the fabric covering his arms and he forced his grip to release. He was _not_ intimidated by the moody jounin. And he was _not_ going to be ignored again. The corners of his mouth relaxed. His voice softened to one of genuine concern “You left without a note. I was worried.”

“Why should I leave a note?” The vicious lash made Iruka flinch. 

Iruka’s scowl reappeared. “Look, I know this is how you deal with things and I get that. Really, I do. I promise to not bother you again.” Iruka took a deep calming breath. Abruptly Kakashi’s stiffened back made him recall the dream of the persimmon door with the boy crying inside. A strange impulse made Iruka reach out a hand to the copy-nin. His husband. “But consider me…” he said gently “You don’t have to be alone when you return.” 

Something in Iruka’s voice prompted Kakashi turn around. His eye took Iruka’s hesitant smile before regarding the outstretched hand before him. The sensei’s hand was lightly calloused with a faded scar across the palm. It was a hand stained with a few spots of ink, not blood. Iruka’s warm smile was framed by loose strands of hair floating in the wind. What he offered pulsed with the presence of life.

The tense silence had stretched into a point fine enough to puncture skin. Iruka’s hopeful expression faltered. He was about to retreat when Kakashi stopped him short.

“You forgot your vest.”

Iruka made a self depreciating chuckle as he withdrew his hand to drape around his midriff. “I’m only cold because I stopped moving.” He felt a little self conscious under that unreadable one-eyed stare. He licked his lips before making one last offer “I have leftovers from dinner last night. They just need to be heated up.”

Kakashi opened his mouth to decline, but then a low rumbling growl resonated like an irritable beast prodded by a sharp stick. The pangs of hunger hit Kakashi in full force, and he closed his mouth with a snap as mortification blossomed under his mask. 

Iruka’s eyes had widened from the unearthly sound of the jounin’s stomach, now they nearly popped at the sight of a furiously blushing Kakashi. The corners of Iruka’s mouth twitched as he unsuccessfully fought to hold back a smile. Both shinobi knew that there was no use denying the appeal of a hot meal over stale field rations.

Kakashi fixed a glare above the now openly grinning chuunin to the bushy ponytail. He tried to regain a little of his wounded pride with a gruff “I’ll make the tea.” Kakashi was yet again unbalanced by Iruka boldly closing the few paces that separated them, and was unsure of what to make of the mischievous glint in those dark brown eyes.

If anything, Iruka’s smile broadened. “Race you back to the house?”

“Wha-?”

Iruka tapped Kakashi on the nose with an impish grin. “Too slow, old man!” Without waiting for a response he bounded across the windswept clearing and leaped into the trees with a whoop.

It was a bewildered Kakashi that was left listening to Iruka’s laughter fade into the forest. The infamous copy-nin shook his head, bemused that a smile was threatening to twitch at his concealed lips. Armed with only a smile Iruka had dismantled the grim atmosphere and had then turned the morose copy-nin on his head with an invitation to a game. This was a side to the sensei Kakashi had never before seen, and it was very unlike the uncertain and temperamental man he had first met. Kakashi would have to pay closer attention in the future to see what other tricks his new husband had up his sleeves.

He glanced back at the memorial stone. A few hesitant drops of rain speckled the black granite, the water reflecting the grey sky gave the illusion of tiny chips marring the polished stone. Kakashi decided that it was just as well that he finished his vigil for the time being. He will try to return sometime before he was assigned another mission, when he might yet need to add another name to his ever growing list. But for now…

 _’Call me an old man, will he?’_ A sly smirk pulled at the fabric of the cloth mask. Kakashi fully intended make Iruka regret that jab, and there was plenty of mud lying about to drive the message home. 

He will count from ten to give Iruka a fair start. 

The small scattering of off-duty shinobi and civillians that were about their morning business scurried to find shelter when the rain broke into a downpour—that is, all for the exception of two Konoha residents sought refuge from the storm. 

Somewhere in the forest a few mudballs and a carefully aimed slug had transformed the race into a dirty game of tag both in the metaphorical and physical sense. Mother Nature’s din muffled laughter and colorfully indigent curses of two shinobi at play, of whom neither could anticipate how the events of that morning would mark their tumultuous relationship, or how it will forever affect the course of their lives. 

*~*~*~*~

Kaeno tightened the worn knitted shawl about her stout figure as she frowned up at the midmorning sky. The rain showed no signs of relenting anytime soon, she would have to work on her garden another day. She stared up at the sky as she stroked a grizzled tabby eating its breakfast along with the rest of the strays that had decided to take refuge under her porch away from the storm. 

As one every cat perked its ears in the direction of the path leading down the hill, and in a heartbeat they scattered from sight. The retired ANBU followed suit by melting into the shadows against the leeway of her house. Not many would readily believe how easily she could make her plump figure disappear. The drab color of her kimono melded seamlessly with the wooden planks. From her vantage point she suppressed her chakra and waited, wondering what purpose could drive a person to endure the unsavory weather. Abruptly she heard laughter before two men hustled into view. In her shock Kaeno very nearly lost concentration to withhold her chakra and give away her presence. 

Kakashi and Iruka were almost unrecognizable under a thick coating of mud despite streaks of rainwater marking clean paths across their faces. Clumps of dirt and pine needles tangled in their clothes and hair, as well as what appeared to be an unfortunate slug caught in the chuunin’s disheveled ponytail. Their clothes were very likely ruined given how very little could be seen through all the mud. Despite how they shivered both men grinned and jostled each other like two boys running home after a rough day of play, and appeared nothing at all like the respectable and feared shinobi the rest of the world perceived. 

It was not the strange state of the two young men that had unbalanced Kaeno, but that Hatake Kakashi was _laughing!_ Next to the younger’s musical laugh Kakashi’s sounded unpracticed as if the jounin was flexing a newly discovered muscle, but it was one of pure delight and utterly free of bitterness or scorn. The sound of it gladdened Kaeno’s heart, as she could not recall a time when she heard her young neighbor sound so carefree.

The cats reemerged onto the porch and resumed eating their breakfast as soon as the noisy shinobi disappeared up the path. Kaeno eased herself from her stiff pose with a grateful sigh that was not entirely due to relief of her aching back. The seed she had planted had successfully taken root, though that hardheaded Umino boy had yet to realize that he held Kakashi’s heart in his hands. There was hope yet if Iruka possessed the ability to help Kakashi remember how to laugh and take delight in the pleasures of the mundane. 

Kaeno absently resumed scratching the ears of the grizzled tabby, the cat purred contentedly as if it had never bolted beneath her hand. She sent a small prayer for the young couple. She fervently hoped for both Kakashi and Iruka’s sakes that they were as patient a gardener as she and will tend the bud to blossom and bear fruit. They lived in a world where violence could cut their lives short, and Kaeno prayed that for whatever time her two young neighbors had in this world that they would be able to find love and solace in each other.

 

**TBC**


	12. A Door Opens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of two, as this chapter got out of hand in length as did the last!
> 
> Thank you everyone for all the kudo's and comments! (passes out to recover from the flu)

Kakashi sat staring the food set before him at the dining table. The aroma of reheated leftovers—pork katsudon over rice with a bowl of mushroom miso soup-- wafted enticingly to make his stomach rumble, but he had yet to reach for his chopsticks. 

He was alone in the house, his damp silvery hair cooling after a hot shower to rid the mud and the chill of rain from his body. He had insisted Iruka wash first, as the chuunin had class to attend that afternoon, and a freshly scrubbed sensei made a better impression than one made plastered with mud. Kakashi emerged from the shower to discover had prepared a late breakfast set out and ready for him, but it was not the only discovery that had caught the jounin’s mind as he silently contemplated his steaming meal.

There was something different about the house. 

The house felt…lighter somehow, almost as if a window had been opened to a room that had long been sealed to invite a fresh breeze. The daunting silence and the musty scent of mildew remained, those had been as close a companion to Kakashi as was his shadow. He could not place a word to describe what had changed the oppressive atmosphere of his ancient home, but he could pinpoint a name to it. Umino Iruka.

Kakashi picked up his chopsticks and swirled the tips of the utensils in his soup, pale white mushrooms bobbed to surface above the cloudy broth. Perhaps it was the presence of another human living in the house, or it could be the addition of the other man’s scent overlaying the old…a pleasant spicy-sweet musk that Kakashi likened to a freshly opened canister of tea. 

Iruka smelled a lot nicer than mildew. 

Almost absently, Kakashi picked at a mushroom to take an experimental nibble, and his eye widened with surprise. There was a trace amount of Kaeno’s cooking in this dish, he was certain about that. Only Kaeno had a habit of marinating mushrooms in soy sauce before adding them to the pot, and apparently she had taught Iruka to do the same during Kakashi’s absence. It was good to know offhand that his longtime neighbor approved of Iruka’s character. The retired ANBU would not have offered to pass along her culinary secrets if she felt otherwise. 

An odd feeling infected the battle-hardened jounin. He felt warm inside—well, warmer than his core temperature, along with a tingling in his stomach. It had to be the result of an emotional response or for the first time Kakashi was experiencing pleasant indigestion. 

He was suddenly overcome by an overwhelming urge to express his gratitude. He highly doubted Iruka would appreciate anything inspired by the _Icha Icha_ series, so long winded poetry and mountains of flowers were out of the equation.

As he resumed eating the jounin’s mind drifted to laundry room where his muddied flak vest rested on a peg to dry, or more accurately, he thought of the contents of a pocket he had sewn into the hem of his collar. Kakashi had found something one morning before his mission with the ill-fated client had gone to utter shit. It was small and incredibly delicate, and it had glittered with all the brilliance of an emerald resting among sparkling droplets of dew laden moss. A rare impulse had prompted Kakashi to snatch the object and tuck it away like a precious secret, and it had brought him a small measure of comfort pressed against the pulse of his throat. 

It was his secret and one that he had never meant to share…and it was in retrospect not much in terms of a gift, but perhaps it would mean something to Iruka in the same way it did for Kakashi.

~*~*~*~*~

A small frown wrinkled Iruka’s brow as he stood before the intricately carved desk that was the focal point of his office. A small feather rested over a neatly organized stack of papers. His annoyance spiked into indignation. Only one person was brazen enough to intrude on his personal space and there was only one other person living inside the house. 

With a scowl Iruka dropped his satchel to snatch the feather. He then strode into the living room where Kakashi lounged on the floor with blue-bound _Icha Icha_ in hand. Iruka planted one fist over his hip and thrust the feather out between two fingers. “What’s the meaning of this?” 

“Hm?” Kakashi’s eye flickered before returning to his book. “I haven’t the faintest clue of what you are accusing me of,” the elite jounin drawled as he flipped a page, his tone utterly bland behind his mask. “A bird must have flown in and dropped it inside the house.” 

Iruka worked his jaw as he prepared a scathing rebuke to call out the obvious lie. He scowled at the feather in hand. It was from no bird native to the Fire Country, a shimmering emerald that evoked sun kissed leaves to blend effortlessly with jungle flora. The distinct color tugged at Iruka’s memory and then it clicked that the feather was a gift, and one weighted with meaning. His eyes widened at the realization that it was a color that was part of the gradient greens of his Haniwa wedding kimono. 

Iruka looked up in time to see Kakashi’s half-lidded eyes lowering back to his book. The jounin had been gauging the chuunin’s reaction. By the angle of the shadows created by the overhead light Iruka could swear that the fibers of Kakashi’s mask had stretched to form a half-smile. 

Iruka felt like an utter ass. He had done it again, assuming the worse of the other man. Utterly bewildered and self-conscious of a damnable blush heating his face, he opened his mouth “Kakashi, I--”

“I’ll check the roof for damage.” Kakashi cut in as he snapped his book shut and rose to his feet. “It wouldn’t do for birds to get trapped inside the house.” Only a slight change of posture gave hint that the jounin was pleased with how his gift had been received. 

Iruka was silent as his husband glided out of the room. With a shrug he followed suit and returned to his office to plop into its single chair before his desk. The feather twirled between his fingers as he thought, and it sparkled with the rays of the golden sun setting over the distant Hokage Monument. If Kakashi wanted to be elusive then Iruka was not going to press, but the he was warmed at the reassurance that he had not been far from the Kakashi’s mind when the man had been gone. 

Iruka placed the feather on the windowsill above his desk. He smiled, and a weight lifted from his heart as he let go the last of his misgivings. It was difficult for any shinobi to give way to trust, and Iruka wasn’t entirely sure if his heart was capable to allow access to another …but after today, he was willing to give it a try.

~*~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful morning that greeted Iruka that early Saturday morning. The autumnal sky was lightly sprinkled with clouds to allow the warm rays to brighten Konoha despite a chilling breeze that blew in from the north. Due in part of the fair weather and the gift of Kakashi’s feather—which was never far from his mind, Iruka was in good spirits as he wove through the crowds that choked Konoha’s open marketplace. 

Four days had come and gone since a note had been left on the windowsill next to the green feather. Years working at Registrations had granted Iruka the ability to decipher Kakashi’s spidery scrawl apologizing in few words that he had been summoned sometime during the night. No mention of a return date had been mentioned, which was enough to hint that Kakashi’s orders had been sealed by the Hokage himself. 

Iruka was disappointed that the jounin had been recalled to another mission after two days back home, but the sight of the green feather never failed to summon a bemused smile to play upon his lips, and with it a flickering elation at the hope that it was a charm for better things to come, a tiny white-hot flame that desperately wanted to grow. 

Iruka paid no heed to the vendors giving him odd looks as he happily hummed while perusing through their goods, some even went so far as to indulge the good-natured chuunin with marketplace gossip. Iruka was now a familiar face in the crowd and he had made the effort to strike friendships with several of the farmers and craftsmen, and in return some granted the sensei a little more to his basket at no extra charge.

With half the morning gone and his basket half full, Iruka found that he had enough coin left in his pouch to be tempted to seek out the rare delicacy of winter strawberries. Kakashi had so far happily devoured every crumb Iruka had served, and a planned had formed in the chuunin’s mind to try his hand at making some sort of dessert. Iruka had a fond weakness for strawberries, and he curious to discover if the jounin did as well.

After some dogged searching Iruka found a stall that specialized in exotic spices and produce. The vendor had the misfortune to set up shop next to the mouth of a narrow alleyway where a cold breeze blew unhindered from the shadows of tall buildings, and coupled by exuberant prices there were no customers to be found. The vendor appeared to have given up on sales so late in the day and was completely absorbed behind the full spread of an opened newspaper. 

Iruka only had eyes for the prize he sought: Behind the stall a small basket sat atop misshapen forms of black desert squash, inside a carefully stacked mound of tiny strawberries shone like rubies set against the sun. Iruka squeezed through the press of bodies to reach the empty space behind the stall,then let out a grateful sigh to be granted a temporary respite away from the crowd. With utmost scrutiny he began to pick through the berries, determined to take home only the best.

A good shinobi had to always be alert and aware of their surroundings. An enemy could strike in the least likely of places the moment a target’s defenses were down. “Precautions,” Iruka lectured to his students “Must always be maintained even inside your own backyard.”

The crash of metal cut through the peaceful marketplace like a thunderclap. A tower of brightly burnished copper pots had tipped from a cookware stall to clatter across the ground, followed by a stream of curses by a portly vendor scrambling to recover his wares. The noise drew every eye in the vicinity, including Iruka who had started and nearly dropped the handful of selected berries rolling free from his palm. 

Lured by the ruby colored fruit with his back facing the alleyway, it was on that beautiful morning Iruka had failed to follow his own advice. 

He did not detect the shinobi until it was too late. 

A hand clamped over Iruka’s mouth and pulled the hitate-ate over his eyes. A strong grip grabbed his wrists and twisted them painfully up behind his back. Blinded and gagged, the strawberries tumbled alongside his basket to be tramped into the ground as Iruka was dragged backwards into the concealing shadows of the alley. Jerking about wildly, Iruka dug in his heels and pushed back to unbalance his two captors but the two shinobi were well versed on restraining a fellow nin. Iruka bit down at the hand covering his mouth and was rewarded by a muffled yelp as the hand tore free, knocking Iruka’s hitate-ate askew in the process. Tasting blood, Iruka gasped for air but before he could cry out a wadded rag was stuffed inside his mouth and tied in place. 

The abduction had struck with all the speed of a hawk snatching a mouse from an open field. Not twenty paces beyond the alley cookpots could be heard clinking where civilians assisted the vendor to collect his wares. 

Iruka shook his head for the loosened hitate-ate to drop around his neck. With his eyesight recovered he assessed his situation at a glance. The shinobi standing before him was a tall gangly man dressed in the standard Konoha uniform with a dark hood and scarf obscuring his face, and what Iruka could see of the man’s eyes blazed with anger as he shook blood from his bitten hand. 

The shinobi restraining Iruka was thickly muscled and of stocky build, from what Iruka could see from the corner of his eye, and he too wore a scarf and hood. His grip on Iruka’s wrists promised to break bone, and Iruka ceased struggling at the moment. “Ayako, did anyone see?” the nin whispered in a voice of a rusty hinge that badly needed oiling.

“Use code names, idiot!” The tall shinobi hissed before making an impatient gesture with a jerk of his wounded hand, presumably to Ayako. “Well, did anyone see us?” 

A remarkably petite kunoichi slipped from the shadows to survey the mouth of the alleyway leading to the marketplace. She kept to the shadows like a timid mouse contemplating returning to its hole. She turned to make her report, a hood covered her head with a handkerchief tied over her nose, and Iruka was taken aback by grey eyes that seemed almost too big for her head. “There’s too many people to say for sure,” she whispered, her high pitched voice was almost a squeak. Those big eyes darted uncertainly between Iruka and the tall shinobi with the bloodied hand, the apparent leader of the team. 

A striking familiarity about the kunoichi’s mannerisms jarred Iruka to his core. 

These three were _children!_ Well, more accurately children just on the cusp of puberty, judging by the crack in stocky nin’s voice. Iruka would wager his entire paycheck that the tall gangly leader was no more a year or two younger than Naruto. Were these shinobi enemies that had infiltrated Konoha? And why would they target him? 

Iruka tuned out those inane questions. It did not matter why, and children or not these three had successfully managed to abduct a chuunin-rank from a very public place during broad daylight from inside the beating heart of Konoha. What really concerned Iruka was what the three youths planned to do next? His experience as an instructor made Iruka all the more aware of his mounting peril; he could sense their agitation increase with every beat of his racing heart. It would not take much to push them over the edge, judging by the dark expression worn by the tall youth leading the team. 

“What are you waiting for?” the young kunochi, Ayako, whispered in what could only be the equivalent of a noiseless shriek. She was hopping from one foot to the other, an action that likened her more to a child than an enemy to be feared. What she said belied her appearance to strike Iruka with icy cold dread “Do it now and get it over with!” 

The tall youth squared his thin shoulders and swaggered as he closed the small space between himself and the prisoner. Under different circumstances Iruka would have scoffed at the boy’s poor attempt to inspire confidence in his comrades. Iruka locked dark eyes with the youth’s grey to flaunt his determination that he would not be cowed. For a moment the boy hesitated, unsure of how to confront a prisoner’s silent defiance, and then his expression hardened. The bloodied hand Iruka had bit shot out to fist the gathered tail of the chuunin’s hair. 

Panic nearly overwhelmed Iruka as his head was yanked backwards by his hair to fully expose his throat. Terror filled his every pore, and Iruka could not remember how to breathe. He swallowed convulsively, his throat bobbing as he fought for air, his eyes rolled madly with an unwillingness to see the inevitable that was about to come. 

It was in this state that his hyper-active senses caught the soft whisper of a blade being drawn from its sheath, and in that moment the lifetime Iruka had spent honing his shinobi body made instinct travel faster than thought. 

The shinobi that was Umino Iruka kicked into gear.

Iruka buckled his knees for his weight to fall forward and force the stocky boy to shift his feet, and within that sliver of a moment Iruka concentrated the bulk of his chakra into his legs to kick all his weight backwards and slam the stocky nin into the brick wall. It was not a ploy that would have worked with more experienced shinobi, but fortune had granted Iruka a small boon to send young assassins. With a pained grunt the nin released his hold and Iruka was free, and he wasted no time ducking low to strike out at the startled leader but the gangly youth moved lightning-quick before the chuunin could land a blow. 

Iruka dove into a roll just before the stocky nin could make another grab, the displaced air from the boy’s fists whistled in his ears. Iruka planted his hands to the ground and kicked out, but was only his heel was able to score a glancing blow across the boy’s chin, but it gained Iruka the precious seconds he needed to regain his feet and dig into the weapons holster strapped to his thigh. He was a fool to have left home with nothing other than the handful of shuriken he gripped in either hand. 

His two other foes had acted fast to flank their prisoner’s sides to prevent Iruka from escape. Both the gangly leader and kunoichi had razor-sharp kunai at the ready and an offensive jutsu in place, though their chakra was subdued to evade outside detection. The stocky crack-voiced boy had recovered in time to move in from the front and force Iruka to press his back against the rough brick wall. The alleyway was three paces wide at best, and the three youths stood at less than two. 

Iruka glanced upwards for an opening to the roofs, but spotted the silhouette of a fourth shinobi acting as a lookout intently watching the scene below. He reassessed his situation with a sinking feeling of despair. He was boxed in from all sides, and there was no time to unfasten the gag over his mouth to cry for help, and no time to drop the shuriken and perform the lengthy seals required for a teleportation jutsu. 

The three children advanced with halting determined steps to close in, and Iruka snarled over his gag and brandished the shuriken to ward them back, but it was a hollow gesture. Even with his life hanging by a thread Iruka knew in his heart of hearts that he could not attack these children with any intent to kill, and it was a weakness that whomever sent these assassins had not hesitated to exploit. It was ironic to think that a relatively safe career working with children would ultimately prove to be his undoing. 

Resignation broke through Iruka’s despair to allow fatalism to fester his resolve. Sadness for Naruto who would take his beloved sensei’s death hard. Konohomaru and Akemi, and Sandaime Hokage’s grief to bury another son. Iruka thought of his students, and the many that would experience the void called loss for the first time to forever tarnish their fleeting innocence. 

And Kakashi. 

Kakashi, who had been a stranger on the day he proposed marriage to an overwhelmed chuunin. Kakashi, who’s antics had succeeded driving Iruka crazy and up the wall. Kakashi, who had offered kindness and a ladder wrought from patience to bring Iruka back down. Kakashi, who had managed to melt Iruka’s heart with the gift of a single feather. Kakashi, who would never leave the shadow of the memorial stone. 

A terrified squeak arrested Iruka’s attention. The oversized eyes of the little kunoichi had widened at something high above Iruka’s head. Trembling, she took a step back.

“What is it now?” her leader gruffly demanded. Ayako’s only response to the harsh command was a soft whine under her handkerchief, a pitiful sound that made all who heard it want to twitch. The gangly leader studied the unmoving chuunin suspiciously, and then a gasp from the stocky boy made the leader spin about with kunai ready to strike at whoever that dared to intrude. 

And then Iruka saw that it was not an interloper that had interrupted the fight but the alley itself. The walls were _melting!_ , the rosey-hued bricks and grime encrusted motor dripped as if it were wax melting off a cabdle stump. Worse, faces had formed in the dripping mess, monstrous faces given flayed flesh made by the brick’s color, the motor forming into jagged teeth and bulging eyes. Some of those terrifying visages whispered dark promises of horrors yet to come, while others strained from the prison that was the melting wall to snap rotting teeth with an eagerness to feed. It could only be an ocular genjutsu, and a powerful one, Iruka surmised, one cast by a shinobi of jounin rank that possessed incredible talent and skill.

“It’s him!” The stocky boy moaned and wobbled with the want of falling to his knees. “Ohhh, we are so dead!”

The tall youth looked between the determined sensei and the genjutsu melting the walls. “Shit!” His fingers snapped to signal his two panicking subordinates and the shinobi lookout above. His cronies were all too willing to follow the command to retreat, and as one they leaped to the roofs to make their escape.

As soon as Iruka was alone the genjutsu dispelled to restore the brick walls back to their natural state. Iruka tensed as a shadowy figure appeared in the mouth of the alley, approaching with slow cautious intent. Apprehensive, Iruka did not let up his defense but spared a moment to sever his gag and spit the wadded rag out. A woman’s voice stopped him short from throwing a shuriken as a warning to halt the newcomer’s feet.

“Are you unharmed, Iruka?” 

Relief washed over Iruka like a torrent. “Kurenai?”

The dark-haired kunoichi stepped from the shadows. Her crimson eyes surveyed the rooftops where the four young shinobi had fled. She held herself with all the self-assurance that came with her jounin rank, despite having Mirai nestled inside a sling strapped across her chest. The infant had peacefully slept throughout the ordeal. 

Iruka’s relief crumbled to fury at the sight of Mirai. “What in the hell were you _thinking_ butting into a fight with the baby? Anything could have happened to her!”

Kurenai leveled a cold stare at the chuunin. “You assume that I would willingly put my daughter in harm’s way?” There was a challenge in her voice, that of a mother willing to fight tooth and nail to protect her child. Her expression softened as she relented “A genjutsu is hardly a direct confrontation. I was shopping for a frying pan when I saw you dragged off.” She hesitated before admitting “I’m surprised that my illusion spooked them enough to bolt.”

“They thought you were Kakashi.” Iruka could not suppress a shudder. The attack had barely lasted more than a few minutes. There was no telling what would have happened if Kurenai had not interceded. Iruka flushed upon the realization that he had forgotten his manners before his rescuer. “Thank you, Kurenai-san, for stepping in.” He bowed, and loose stands of his hair fell at the motion for the ends to prick at the corners of his eyes. 

Iruka froze. Prick his eyes?

With growing dread Iruka lifted a hand to feel his bound hair. It was still there, aside from a few thick strands that had been severed at the base of the tail. Giddy relief and furious indignation bubbled to the surface as the events clicked into place: Those children had never intended to slit his throat but cut off his _hair!_ That realization and the aftereffects of adrenaline gave Iruka an overwhelming urge to sit down, and he did so without ceremony. His rump hit the packed earth with a hollow ‘thump.’ 

A frown creased Kurenai’s forehead as regarded Iruka with concern. “We should speak to The Hokage about this. This was not an attack to cause bodily harm according to shinobi edict, but this was an assault no matter how the law is written.” 

Iruka automatically shook his head. “No, nothing serious happened to me. The Hokage has enough on his plate to focus his energy on something so trivial.” Not to mention the fact that a Hokage cannot show too much favor to any one faction, let alone his family clan. To be Hokage was to represent _all_ Konoha shinobi. 

Iruka continued “This is a matter better suited to discuss with Akemi.” he grimaced, other than his aunt there was one other person that he should seek council. He had a suspicion of the identity of his attackers, and he had to be very delicate on how to approach the situation. “I need to arrange a visit with Matron Hyuuga Yukari as well.”

~*~*~*~*~

Late afternoon found Iruka fidgeting over a richly embroidered cushion inside a moderately sized tea room at the Hyuuga estate. The ends of his freshly shorn bangs refused to stay out of his eyes even with his Leaf hitate-ate properly back in place. He had not possessed bangs since he was a child, and it was surreal to possess them again. 

Iruka made it a point not to directly look at the two elderly women seated at the opposite ends of a lacqured table, and he busied himself by wriggling a hand above baby Mirai, who cooed with delight as she reached to grasp his fingers with chubby hands. Kurenai sat to Iruka’s left with her child between them on a soft blanket. A cup of tea warmed the kunoichi’s hands as she observed the source of the chuunin’s discomfort with apparent fascination.

It was no great secret that Sarutobi Akemi and Hyuuga Yukari immensely disliked one another, a fact made more obvious by how both women pretended that the other did not exist, even as they tolerated tea shared from the same pot. On the surface they wore calm dignity like a mantle befitting rival queens, but a palpable tension vibrated through the room liked a rubber band pulled at its limit. Iruka was inclined to compare the clan matriarchs as two strange cats forced to confront each other in a tiny room…after the cats had been dunked into a barrel of cold water. Iruka suspected Kurenai was making a mental wager on which of the two women’s self-imposed serenity would be first to crack. 

After ten minutes suffering the silence Kurenai tired of her private game and let out a huff that very nearly sounded like exasperation. The sound prompted Yukari to frown disapprovingly into her teacup and Akemi to raise a thin eyebrow in a mild rebuke to the younger woman. Kurenai did not back down from Sarutobi Akemi’s stare. Asuma’s death had made her a widow but it had cemented a place for her in the Sarutobi clan. Her perceptiveness and cool collective nature was a valued asset in the clan council as was her no-nonsense approach in what she considered dawdling. This was what the kunoichi decided the two elderly women were doing. 

Kurenai politely asked “Is our account sufficient, Akemi-san, Yukari-san?” She made a discreet glance at Iruka. “We are both quite anxious to hear what must be done.”

“There is no need to elaborate.” Sarutobi Akemi placed her teacup onto the table. She was as powerful a figurehead as Matron Yukari was to the Hyuuga clan, and both were longtime rivals at that. Akemi frowned at Yukari, the red and gold weave of her kimono a vivid contrast to the Hyuuga Matron’s silvery blue. She continued “Unless Yukari-san feels otherwise.”

“I have heard enough to decide what must be done” Yukari intoned with a grim set to her lined face as she studied the contents inside her cup. “This incident cannot come to public knowledge.”

“Indeed,” a sour look crossed Akemi’s face to agree with Yukari. “Want happened today shall be sealed inside this room.” Her dark eyes caught Iruka’s gaze. “You must not speak of it even to your husband.”

Iruka had remained silent up to this point and he was fit enough to burst. He barely prevented himself from doing so “You know who they are, don’t you?” the sharp accusation was enough to slice through the petty indifference between the elder women. Iruka did not exclude Akemi of his frown. “I have a strong suspicion myself. Why would Hatake clansmen want to cut off my hair?” Iruka was angry enough to not feel satisfaction when both women jumped with surprise to affirm his claim. 

Yukari was the first to recover, smoothing her face of emotion. “Why would—“

“What gave them away?” Kurenai smoothly cut in.

“I have picked up enough tidbits to figure how Kakashi’s clan regards him.” Iruka grimaced. “And compared to him, I am the easier target.” He did not add that he had witnessed firsthand how shinobi children took out their clan’s frustrations. Naruto was testament to that sort of bullying. Iruka continued “Cutting off my hair would be an indirect blow to Kakashi’s reputation and flaunt me as a weakness.” There was a chance that Iruka was reading in too deeply on the motives of his young attackers, but it was better to cover all possibilities, including the one that they had acted under orders and not of their own accord.

Yukari pointedly sniffed before taking up her tea for a delicate sip. “You are sharp. I’ll be sure to remember that in the future when you gain enough experience to attend the village council.” Iruka’s former Nakodo sounded proud, albeit begrudgingly. “Either way you understand the gravity of this situation. I have notified the proper channels regarding the circumstances of your assault and I have it on good authority that it was a singular event made by younglings eager to impress. Those involved will be properly disciplined by their elders.” Yukari sniffed again. “As Akemi-san stated, Kakashi shall not to be informed. We cannot let an incidental thing like family feuds reopen scars that are best left sealed.”

“We?” Iruka arched an eye at Akemi, who glared at the Hyuuga matron in response. Yukari for a wonder flushed with chagrin at her slip, her cheeks brightened against her pale eyes and silver hair.

Akemi rolled her eyes when it became apparent Yukari refused to elaborate. “I suppose you should be informed.” She set down her teacup, making a small ‘clink’ on the lacquer table before stating bluntly “Kakashi is a candidate to be appointed the next Hokage of Konoha.”

A strangled noise caught in Iruka’s throat. His eyes bugged out of his head until he was half certain that they would fall out and bounce across the table and land in Akemi’s teacup. A nervous laugh managed to force its way free. Surely, it had to be some sort of a sick a joke…he looked between the grim faces belonging to Sarutobi Akemi and Hyuuga Yukari. By the seven hells, they were both _serious!_

Kurenai tilted her head and looked thoughtful as she digested what she had heard. “Hmm…yes. I can see why you would choose Kakashi.” She nodded as if the ridiculous proposition was the most sane and logical choice. 

“Why…him?” Iruka croaked. It was all he could manage. Married to Hatake Kakashi was one thing, but to _Hokage_ Hatake Kakashi, the embodiment of the Will of Fire, the inspiring symbol to all the Fire Country citizens and the shinobi who dedicate their lives to it’s lands? Iruka was torn between exploding or laughing hysterically.

“Why?” Yukari sniffed before answering Iruka’s question. Her no-nonsense tone brought Iruka back to the present. “Because he is the most qualified candidate for the position, and I personally believe that the best leaders are those that do not actively seek the position of leadership in the first place.” 

“My brother was never meant to hold the title of Hokage for so long,” Akemi interjected with sadness. “Upon the Yondaime’s death from the Kyuubi attack the Sandaime had revoked retirement to help build our village from its foundation back to its former glory.” She frowned at her wizened hands folded upon her lap, which had once been able to throw a kunai without hesitation of it missing the mark. She gave Kuranai a sympathetic look. “Asuma’s death was a blow that I am not sure he would ever recover. He is old, Iruka-kun, and very, very tired. The Will of Fire must be passed on to the next generation and the sooner the better if the mantle could be worn by one already familiar with the burdens of leadership.”

“Through blood and sacrifice, Kakashi has proven his loyalty to the village time and again.” Hyuuga Yukari’s reedy voice deftly sliced through Akemi’s gloom. “That, as well as his keen mind for tactics, both political and on the field, has made your husband the prime candidate to lead our village.” Yukari grimaced, recalling the banter she shared with the copy-nin at the wedding before Iruka intervened with the ill-fated sake cask. “Even with Kakashi’s…unorthodox methods of ‘diplomacy’ the council is in desperate need for young blood to guide us during these troubled times.” 

Akemi’s down-turned lips curled in a sly smirk. “The Sarutobi clan is fortunate to have cemented a union with such a man.” 

Yukari bristled visibly at the offhanded barb then composed herself by taking a long moment to sip her tea. “It was not for my lack of trying.” She glared pale Hyuuga eyes at Yukari. “Kakashi had never responded to any of the marriage prospects offered by the Hyuuga clan.” 

Suddenly Iruka recalled a conversation he had overheard at his wedding between Yukari and Kakashi. The Matron had made a veiled offer for Hyuuga children to be adopted in place of those that could not be biologically wrought. The Hyuuga were one of the oldest clans in Konoha with a blood limit coveted throughout the lands, so much so that they had been forced to place a seal upon those not of the highest members of their ranks. Yukari was tenacious to maintain the Hyuuga clan’s position inside the village council to better overturn the real possibility of exploitation...a fate that has happened to countless blood-limit clans. Like Akemi, Iruka did not particularly like Yukari or her methods to gain political influence, but he could respect the Hyuuga Matriarch’s determination to protect her family.

The chime of Kurenai manicured fingernail tapping against a teacup caught everyone’s attention before animosity between the two Matriarchs could regain momentum. Kurenai’s cool crimson gaze bordered on impatient. “Now that we have the revelations out of the way, we should revisit the meat of the topic at hand…Iruka has yet to voice his verdict on the Hatake clan’s assault against his own person.”

Iruka started in his seat. It had yet to fully sink in that he was no longer a lowly adoptee of the Sarutobi clan and his opinion carried weight now he was spouse to the leader of the Hatake clan. He had a voice, and a strong one to dictate the path of his fate. Iruka carefully said “I understand your misgivings for the particulars of my assault to become public knowledge…” his tone tempered neutral by lessons gained through diplomatic meetings attending Sandaime Hokage. “But I fail to see what secrets I chose keep from my husband would be a grave concern to you.” As much as Iruka loved Akemi and respected Yukari, he had to place restrictions on them and on the council’s power dictating his personal life.

Akemi’s lips straightened as she fixed a hard look upon her nephew. “I’m sure you have heard from Naruto-kun how fiercely protective Kakashi is for those he holds high in regard…and from what little you know of Kakashi, do you honestly believe he would not hesitate to retaliate a direct attack made by his own blood?”

Iruka found that he was at a loss for words. In all honesty, he could not deny even the small chance that Kakashi would seek retribution from his estranged family, if the dark offhanded remarks were anything to go by. If both Akemi and Yukari supported Kakashi as Hokage than the bulk of the village council was likely of a similar mind. Iruka could not deny their collective wisdom and experience against his own personal misgivings. 

If Hatake Kakashi was the prime candidate to be Hokage than he could not be allowed to seek vengeance against his clan, most especially if the candidate possessed a Sharingan eye. The Uchiha tragedy was a gaping wound made raw by living memory, as was the madness of the traitor Uchiha Itachi. Kakashi seeking a confrontation with his clan would invite more than speculation on the jounin’s state of mind. Doubt of Kakashi’s sanity would forever mark his shadow as a sound and steady leader, a cloak that could never be shrugged off until his dying day. 

With dawning horror Iruka recalled the vicious rumors he had heard from the women at the marketplace. Kakashi standing forlorn in the grey dawn before the Memorial Stone. The Persimmon carved door, barring memories of his father’s suicide. What did Kakashi have, if not his drive to protect Konoha and the respect of his shinobi colleagues to follow his leadership into battle? From what little Iruka knew of his husband, he was certain that any more cracks made in Kakashi’s persona would break the man of his purpose in life.

Iruka would do whatever he could in his power to never allow that to happen.

“Very well,” Iruka conceded bitterly. The three women surrounding the chuunin visibly relaxed, and to add merit to his words Iruka tucked the severed strands of his hair behind his headband. The golden wedding band clinked against the metal disc of his hitate-ate. He would have to think of an explanation if Kakashi spotted his bangs before it had a chance to grow long enough to properly tie back. 

With a sinking feeling Iruka realized that this was possibly the first of many secrets that he would have to keep from Kakashi. It felt vile and wrong to withhold vital information from his partner in marriage, but as a shinobi who has dedicated his life to village and country it was his duty to pursue the greater good for the whole of Konoha. In all respect, it was the only choice for Iruka to take.

He only hoped that he wouldn’t lose more than a few hairs to weigh against his conscious the next time.

~*~*~*~*~

**TBC**


	13. A Door Opens (part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, dedication goes to Anon for answering my plot-bunny prompt to get this story going :)
> 
> Thank you everyone who have kudo'd, reviewed and supported this story. I would have forgotten it long ago if it weren't for all the encouragement to continue.
> 
> This chapter is a continuation of the last, and overall it turned out a bit more angsty than I anticipated. Only a few more chapters to go before the conclusion!

The heat of a merciless sun shimmered against a clear blue sky overlooking the barren dessert terrain of Cloud Country. It was an unforgiving land molded by eons of harsh winds and unrelenting heat that whistled dispassionately though deep canyons and towering rock spires. Hardly anything grew in the arid land, and what little that did was colorless and bedecked in venomous thorns. The only visible signs of animal life were small lizards basking in the sun, their mottled scales perfectly matched to blend with gravel and sand. Buzzards soared with little need to flap as they rode the heated currents, their sharp eyes and sharper talons ready for the opportunity for prey. 

Kakashi had fallen into a half-trance to keep from dozing off. It was not an easy state to achieve, as sweat trickled from his scalp to sting his eyes and his breath made the air foul beneath the porcelain ANBU mask. A mottled linen shroud cloaked his uniform for added camouflage, but the additional layer made him feel like he was roasting inside an oven. Kakashi very much wanted to rip the accursed mask off his face, but he was too well trained to risk notice without justifiable cause. The marginal shade inside his tiny cave gave little relief as he sat though his vigil, as still as a statue over an unassuming goat trail that led to the river raging in the canyon far below. That unassuming goat trail was anything but, as it was one of the few unguarded trails that lead to the mountain pass to the village of Cloud.

Konoha village had received a special request from the Raikage to apprehend one of their own that had gone rogue. Kakashi did not know the particular’s of the nin’s dissent, other than it was of a delicate matter stemming from an internal conflict within the Raikage’s inner council. Kakashi guessed that the rouge nin belonged to a clan of high importance whose dissention had not been made public, and one that the Raikage intended to keep as such, hence the Leaf ANBU had been hired as a separate party to quietly deal with the matter. Sometimes it was better for moral if a highly respected shinobi that had betrayed their country were to ‘disappear.’ It was not the first time ANBU had been assigned such a mission, nor would it be their last. 

To Kakashi, it felt as if he had been staring at the accursed goat trail for weeks waiting for the rouge-nin to arrive, when in fact it had only been a few days. Cloud County held little to stimulate the mind but fortunately Kakashi had the benefit of memories recorded by the Sharingan to alleviate the boredom. That morning he had skimmed through the _Icha Icha Explosion!_ trilogy before the sun had reached its afternoon mark. He had all the _Icha Icha_ series recorded in his mind for occasions when he could not direct his attention to a physical book, though the reactions he provoked reading in public were far more enjoyable. 

For the last few hours Kakashi’s thoughts had strayed to a subject far more enjoyable, or rather to a certain ‘someone’…a scarred-face chuunin waiting for his return back home. A part of Kakashi wanted to dive headfirst into these uncharted emotions but his nature demanded the need to analyze it at every possible angle, so he did research with the material he had readily available.

He had worn his entire _Icha Icha_ collection dog-eared to be able to quote every passage of the moon-eyed hero falling head over heels in love (though more often than not Kakashi would skip to the juicier bits.) After reexamining those particular romantic passages Kakashi concluded that what he felt was quite different than what the books described love to be, and from what the books described love seemed more like a disease than a sought-after experience. Passion did not override his senses, as a shinobi he was disciplined to control his emotions. He did not feel his soul burning with the fires of passion nor did his heart feel like it was about to soar free from his chest...

Feeling like a fool, Kakashi let out an exasperated breath which reverberated inside his mask. Perhaps in hindsight erotic fiction might be a dubious source for his research. He instead reexamined the source of his troubles. 

He had taken up Iruka’s marriage contract because the chuunin was the most interesting prospect to have come along. Kakashi had only wanted a marriage partner to provide company and watch over house affairs as he entered old age, but he did not want a partner that was meek or feared him. Iruka was far from that. The chuunin-sensei was hot tempered and sincere, and most importantly he was not intimidated by Kakashi’s reputation and prowess. It did help that the chuunin was easy on the eyes and that Iruka thought the same of him. Kakashi had selected Iruka as someone that could keep him on his toes once he retired from active duty. 

Now…now there was something else. Kakashi wasn’t quite sure when or how it had happened. Maybe it had started with that small smile Iruka had made at the run down bar, or perhaps it was at the Academy after the sensei had given up confronting Kakashi about the ‘conveniences’ of their marriage. Kakashi had never considered that he was capable of feeling romantic love, and it was a frightening sensation more akin to an addictive drug, one that made him feel vulnerable yet empowered, weak and powerless then strong and sure. It was a small taste of a thousand sensations and possibilities, and he could not help himself from craving more.

He did not need the aid of the Sharingan to recall how Iruka had reacted to his small gift of a humble green feather. Kakashi could perfectly recall how the other man’s scowl had straightened from dawning realization before softening into a smile of pure delight. It was a sight which even now made Kakashi’s stomach do pleasant little flips and made his insides glow like warm honey. He very much wanted to see Iruka smile again, a smile that he would treasure close to his heart.

After puzzling the matter through Kakashi found that he was, on one hand, quite pleased by how things were progressing with the chuunin-sensei. The aloof copy-nin had done everything that he could to make the other man comfortable and his efforts were paying off with Iruka growing more at ease despite Kakashi’s odd habits. If anything, the incident at the Memorial Stone had managed to open a door of sorts between them. 

But on the other hand, Kakashi was faced with an unusual dilemma: How does one go about courting someone you have already married? 

Kakashi’s mismatched eyes scanned the now-familiar rocky terrain. If Iruka’s reaction to the feather was anything to go by then perhaps another gift would do. The Sharingan was uncovered beneath the ANBU mask for easier access for Kakashi to occasionally scan the ravine for suspicious movement. As before he could not spot anything that he could bring home to his husband other than rocks and sun bleached animal bones. 

He was about to close the Sharingan when the distant clatter of gravel tumbling over a cliff face caught his attention, and in an instant Kakashi’s senses were razor sharp and alert. With utmost discretion his chakra probed cautiously at the source of the sound expecting to sense goats grazing from an unseen place as they foraged moisture-rich vegetation. But he sensed nothing, not even the presence of a mouse. 

The noise had to be a distraction, every instinct told Kakashi so. No sooner than the thought entered his mind Kakashi spotted a dry leaf tumble silently before the mouth of his cave. It was the established signal that the other two ANBU had taken note of the disturbance and were preparing to investigate.

Kakashi carefully removed a bundle of shuriken from his pouch. The muscles in his body tensed with anticipation for battle as he scanned the terrain with the aid of the Sharingan. He quickly recited what he was briefed on the rogue-nin, that the man was of jounin rank but fairly weak in terms of close combat. What made the man dangerous was his undisclosed ocular genjutsu blood limit. Kakashi and his companions would try to get close to dispatch their target before the rogue shinobi had the chance to reveal his ocular technique.

Kakashi crept from his hiding place, careful not to disturb the gravel underfoot. The silence grated at his ears, straining for another tell-tale sound. The rogue-nin bastard was somewhere about, and Kakashi would be damned if he allowed the criminal to slip past his guard.

~*~*~*~*~ 

The target had somehow been notified of the ANBU awaiting at the mouth of the goat trail and there were far more than the reported half dozen underlings accompanying the rogue-nin. The presence of additional lackeys, a ragtag undisciplined lot, hardly warranted surprise. Lowlifes tended to follow bigger fish to make heartier meals when they feasted upon the weak. 

The low ranking shinobi could not compete with the concentrated force of the three ANBU elite from Konoha. The ANBU fell into a pincer tactic to effectively whittle away at their forces. Kakashi would flit about the enemy, his teleportation and deadly speed corralling the enemy into tight clusters for Tenzou to evoke his wood jutsu in the limited environment and cement their feet in place. Once utterly helpless, Kenichi would cast a fireball jutsu and burn them from existence. It was hardly a battle. It was a slaughter. 

Kakashi had long ago shed the camouflage shroud to provide better movement but the loss of the cloak did not lessen the heat he felt from Kenichi’s flames, which shimmered in waves against the cloudless sky. Sweat made his uniform stick to his flesh and the stink of charred flesh burned his nostrils under the porcelain mask, and the screams of the dying were a dull thrum to match the rhythm of his racing heart. He had caught sight of their main target, the rogue-nin that was the center of all the destruction. He was a man that stood a head taller than Kakashi, of dusky complexion and platinum hair with a brown scarf partially shielding the eyes belonging to a weather-beaten face. The rogue-nin had spotted Kakashi and recognized the jounin for what he was, for hiding behind an ANBU mask could not entirely conceal the identity of Konoha’s infamous copy-nin. 

As soon as there was a break in the enemy’s forces the rouge-nin surged forward to confront Kakashi and the jounin was eager to reciprocate the challenge. Underlings scattered to make space as the two elite shinobi danced the dance of death. As soon as the blades of their kunai met in a deadlock the rogue-nin wasted no time diving into a full-out ocular attack, his eyes peered out from under the scarf, milky-white and pupil-less aside from black veins. The black veins glimmered like obsidian glass in the afternoon sun. 

Kakashi observed with practiced calm as his opponent’s illusion took effect.

First the sun dimmed overhead as if shadowed by an eclipse, and from the azure sky came forth a web of cracks like shattered glass. Pieces of those cracks began to fly free, fluttering like snow to the earth to mix with the bits of ash made from the charred corpses. Patches of midnight black to peppered the sky, the holes ever growing as the sky continued to break apart and fall. Then the ground trembled beneath Kakashi’s feet and it too began to crack, creating wide gaps of black emptiness that promised a tumble into endless darkness and a lingering death.

Kakashi almost gave into the urge to scoff. This genjutsu was laughably amateurish compared with the powers he possessed. He felt the Sharingan spin in his socket, and knew how it must look peering through the emotionless porcelain mask like an ember glowing in the night. He would show this pup how a genjutsu _should_ be done.

He made the ground crumble away until only a small island to hold their feet. Nothingness stretched as far as the eye could see, leading into unbelievable darkness with no hope to escape. Kakashi summoned a wind howling from the depths below with the force of a tempest to buffet the rogue-nin’s ears. It was the screams of those driven mad by an endless fall whose spirits had found no release in death. That howling wind wrapped around the rogue-nin’s body, who whimpered as the mouthless voices crawled across his skin like countless insects, gibbering and seductive as they urged him to step into the very nightmare that he had thoughtlessly created. 

It was enough to drive anyone mad. Kakashi could not help a smirk of satisfaction pull at his lips as he pressed against his opponent’s kunai. He was disappointed that the rouge-nin retained a firm grip on his weapon even while under the copy-nin’s superior genjutsu. Kakashi threw his weight behind his blade, pushing for an opportunity to make the killing blow. Sparks grated against the joined kunai, an inconsequential battle to that between their genjutsus struggling for dominance. Another whimper pulled from the rogue-nin. It was a pitiful sound that a sleeper would make. Sweat beaded under Kakashi’s mask, the rogue nin strained with effort but held his position with the desperation of a man scrabbling onto a twig against the might of a whirlpool pulling him down.

One of the black veins burst in the nin’s right eye and white viscous fluid dribbled down his craggy face, reminding Kakashi of milk dripping from the edge of a tabletop. Impossibly, the white fluid flowed _outwards_ from the man’s face, defying gravity to form a blob in the small space between the battling shinobi’s faces.

Kakashi frowned. That was not supposed to happen. Was this some sort of failsafe guard made by his opponent? Or had the rogue nin’s genjutsu found a crack to slip through Kakashi’s defense? 

The milky glob turned in on itself, creating a perfect sphere the size of a fist. A vertical slit split the sphere, and with a twitch it peeled back to reveal an eye, bright crimson and black with pinwheels turning lazily inside the pupil. 

It was another Sharingan.

 _‘Ah, so this is his special trick’_ Kakashi thought with mounting curiosity. He rarely encountered genjutsu able to reflect an ocular attack back on the caster. No wonder the Raikage wanted this rogue-nin to be dealt with quietly, such techniques were closely guarded secrets. The Sharingan in Kakashi’s head surged with his chakra to greedily drink in the jutsu to add to its ever growing stores. 

The mock Sharingan burst apart with a sickening sound, the pieces dissolving into smoke. The scent of rotting eggs assaulted Kakashi’s nose. Registering smell inside a genjustu was always a bad sign. Something was very, very wrong. 

The body of the rogue-nin _blurred,_ shrinking in size and form until he possessed a pale face belonging to a mere slip of a girl, with sad brown eyes belying a smile tight with pain. 

Kakashi sucked in a gasp, the air heated by the flames burned in his lungs. A terribly familiar odor replaced the sulfur, one of ozone and charred flesh. Rin stared up at Kakashi and he could not tear his gaze as the light faded from her unblinking eyes. His kunai was gone, replaced by the wetness from the gaping wound he had punched through her chest.

He did this. He did this to her, his best friend.

In a panic he tried to wrench his arm free from the cavity inside her chest, but Rin’s living corpse had gripped an impossibly tight hold over his arm, her fingertips digging sharply into his skin. **You did this,** her voice said in his mind. **You were too late and I had to die!** Her head tilted back and pale lips opened impossibly wide. An unearthly keen soared from her throat, a vengeful wail that pierced needles into Kakashi’s soul. 

With a strangled cry Kakashi pitched forward for his free hand to swipe at Rin’s face. He stumbled as his fist passed through as if she were made of smoke. Rin’s body shattered as if she had been a doll made from delicate glass, the shards evaporating before they hit the ground.

Kakashi was breathing heavily as he struggled to collect his wits. _’Idiot!’_ he berated himself. _’This is a genjutsu, a genjutsu! You will NOT be bested by the likes of him!’_ Kakashi spun around to catch sight of the rogue nin, but he was alone on the small island he had created floating atop the ocean that was a black abyss. That asshole had to be hiding somewhere orchestrating the strings to this hellish illusion. Kakashi had been a fool to underestimate the man’s ocular powers. He had to find him fast before he was pulled deeper into this world. 

With trepidation Kakashi stepped closer to the edge of the island to peer into the depths. The pale face of a middle-aged man emerged from the darkness, gaunt of features and clean shaven with a gaping hole split under his chin where his throat had been slit. It was Hanima, the man Kakashi had failed in his last mission. **My children…** blood dribbled from Hanima's lips as he silently mouthed the words **My children are dead because of you** Kakashi could feel the eyes of Hanima's family staring up from the blackness at him.

Kakashi sprang back until he was in the middle of the small island but there was nowhere for him to run. His breath came out in panicked breaths and tasted rank beneath the ANBU mask. _An illusion. It’s just an illusion!’_ he repeated the mantra but he could not withhold a stricken whine rise in his throat when a small hand slipped over the lip of the island for a boy to climb into view. _’No no no!’_ Kakashi’s mind shrieked. 

The left half of Obito’s body and face were bloodied and crushed. Pallid flesh stretched about his mouth as he too began to scream just as Rin did, his remaining hand clawing at his ruined face. **You left me behind** Obito cried as maggots wriggled from the part of his head where his left eye had been. **You left me alone to DIE!**

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi choked, his willpower evaporated as he sank to his knees. He felt blood leak from his stolen Sharingan to soak into his skin, mingling with his tears. “I’m sorry, I never wanted to leave you.”

As if Kakashi’s confession were a summons more faces began to emerge from the sea of darkness. Hundreds, perhaps thousands. With encroaching horror Kakashi realized that it was his list of dead come to life. All peered up from the darkness with vacant eyes fixed upon the man who had failed them. **We do not live. We died because of you** the faces chanted in rhythm. Bodies began to climb onto his pitiful island with bloodless hands grasping to drag him over the edge. Kakashi could not find it within himself to resist. He deserved this. He deserved to feel their revenge. 

The sun winked out overhead as Kakashi tumbled into the abyss.

“KAKASHI!!” 

Tenzou’s scream was a sound of a faraway echo. A small part of Kakashi registered that his fellow ANBU had leaped to catch his fall, but it was a distant sensation like a memory from a dream. For a moment he saw Tenzou’s face hovering above, bright blood from the slain rogue-nin splattered across the wood-nin’s ANBU mask. How did he know Tenzou had killed the man? Tenzou tore off Kakashi’s porcelain mask and spoke panicked words that he could not hear. 

That brief moment of clarity flitted away as the anchor that was his guilt dragged Kakashi back into his nightmare. Kakashi found no relief when unconsciousness finally claimed him, as the ghosts from his list simply followed him into the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~

The soft tinkle of alarm bells jerked Iruka from a dreamless sleep. Within moments he was fully awake and alert and had snatched the kunai hidden under his pillow then slipped silently out bed. After opening the window he perched on the sill and scanned the moonlit garden two stories below. When he did not immediately spot suspicious activity he dropped to the ground, chakra buffered the noise when his feet hit the cold wet earth and with due haste he sought cover behind the overgrown bushes and flower shrubs. 

With kunai at the ready Iruka carefully made his way to the front entrance to the Hatake mansion. As the sole guardian of the estate he had to assess the situation from a safe distance before deciding on a course of action. He unconsciously ran his free hand through his loose hair to pull back the shorn bangs pricking his eyes. The encounter with the Hatake clan children had deeply unsettled his sense of security of living alone, and in the few days since the mansion felt more like an empty fortress rather than a comfortable sanctuary from his troubles outside. 

Iruka had prepared a few nasty surprises if any of the Hatake clansmen made it past the front door with the intent to enact some form of retaliation. Iruka did not fear that his life was at risk, so to say, but he rather preferred that his hair remain where it properly belonged atop his head. He could not guarantee that any uninvited guest would have more than a few stands to grace their bald pates after experiencing a dose of his ‘hospitality’…Iruka had always taken wicked delight in the creativity he constructed behind his traps, especially if poetic justice was added to the mix.

Iruka shivered as his skin broke into gooseflesh in the cold night air. The loose black sweatpants and thin grey shirt that he had improvised as sleepwear offered no protection from the encroaching winter. His bare feet made no sound in the dry underbrush as he crept to the glaring light that was the open door leading into the main entrance of the ancestral Hatake home where two men sat huddled at the doorway. The sight of a familiar tangle of silver hair slumped before the doorway made Iruka catch his breath and he threw inhibition to the wind to dash to Kakashi’s side. That is, until Iruka registered the presence of the other shinobi.

The shinobi accompanying Kakashi regarded Iruka’s with no outward surprise as if he had expected Iruka to have emerged from the garden rather than a normal person from down the stairs. Even under the harsh shadows of the single hallway light Iruka recognized the man as one Tenzou Yamato, a jounin of elite caliber that Iruka had little acquaintance with outside the Registrations office. What little the chuunin knew of Tenzou was that aside from unnerving black eyes he was among the few able to deliver his mission reports with proper respect, per protocol, and with legible handwriting to boot. 

For a tense moment Tenzou and Iruka wearily eyed each other on the threshold at the door, and it was Iruka that was the first to break the tensionf. He was too distracted by Kakashi’s distressed state to pay Tenzou little mind other than to dismiss the shinobi as a potential threat. He brushed past Tenzou to kneel before the motionless copy-nin on the doorstep leading into the hallway. 

Without a word Iruka set upon the grim task to check the jounin for injuries. Kakashi was paler than unsual, his skin an ashen pallor. Brushing aside the limp silver hair revealed a dark bruise around the visible grey eye brought upon by extreme exhaustion. Kakashi did not appear to have slept for days.  
The jounin seemed hale physically but appeared to be in some sort of unresponsive trance or shock with his mismatched eyes staring at a fixed point no matter how hard Iruka prodded for wounds. The sour reek of vomit clung to Kakashi’s uniform and cloth mask, where Iruka could see his lips moving with quick shallow breaths like a dreamer talking in his sleep. 

Iruka knew that he was sending a subtle insult that Tenzou was not capable of properly caring for a fellow comrade but at the moment he could care less of what his superior thought of his actions. “What happened?” Iruka asked before remembering his station to add “Tenzou-san?”

“He was caught in a genjutsu,” Tenzou simply replied. Iruka gave the other man a flat look and there was a tense moment before Tenzou gave with a wearisome shrug “This sometimes happens when he encounters another genjutsu user, something triggers the Sharingan to go on a loop that he cannot escape.”

Iruka took a steadying breath before standing to be at eye level with Tenzou. “So, this has happened before.” Without realizing Iruka had placed himself between the slumped jounin and Tenzou, they were almost at a height yet Iruka _loomed_ as his voice cracked like a whip “Then why the HELL did you bring him here and not the hospital!?” 

“There is nothing they could do for him!” Tenzou protested and his hands made placating gestures as if to fend off a wild animal. The wood-nin’s black eyes were taken aback at the mild-mannered chuunin’s outburst. But then Tenzou never had the pleasure of experiencing Iruka’s temper outside Registrations. The wood-nin gave a twitch before elaborating “Like I said, he is caught in some sort of loop. I do not think his mind can take the overload so he shuts down. Senpai is not an Uchiha clansmen blessed with a body made to carry the Sharingan.” After a weighted pause Tenzou quietly asked “Do you know of his visits to the memorial stone?”

“Yes…?” Iruka was unsure what the wood-nin was getting at.

Tenzou’s mouth tightened as he looked down at the unresponsive copy-nin and Iruka followed his gaze. “I don’t know exactly what he sees, but wherever he is, he is not alone.”

It was then that Iruka carefully observed how Kakashi’s lips moved under the mask, seeming to mouth a single sentence _”I’m sorry, I’m sorry”_ over and over again. He felt a chill. Hatake Kakashi was famous across the lands for his prowess in battle, but such a reputation billed a heavy price. Iruka recalled how Kakashi appeared standing alone before the Memorial Stone. How many of people had died by his hand, and how many comrades had he been forced to watch die? Thinking back upon the reports Iruka had filed in the past, the possibilities of Kakashi’s torment made him feel sick.

With a shiver Iruka recalled that fleeting exchange in that very same hall, where he startled an unguarded Kakashi in the midst of his post-mission routine. In that brief moment Iruka had felt the vast difference of himself and the force that had made the copy-nin a living legend across the land. Caring for a mentally unstable shinobi of Kakashi’s caliber would be akin tending to a wounded animal that was liable to lash out with claws and teeth. Iruka glanced down at Kakashi, who looked anything but threatening as he was now curled over the floor.

But…Kakashi was his husband. 

Their union had been one of mutual interest to bolster the standing of their respective clans. From the start their relationship had been an uphill battle, and it had not been until the incident with the sake cask when both had reached some sort of common ground. Something had changed when Kakashi did nothing more than chastely kiss Iruka on their wedding night. Perhaps it was the gift of a personal office or even the jounin’s stoic determination to respect Iruka’s boundaries and provide him a home where he did not feel like an intruder. Whatever it was that was budding between them was cultivating into a promise that their marriage could mean more than two signatures signed on a piece of paper.

Kakashi was his husband. 

Iruka’s jaw tightened. _’And I am his.’_

A surge of protectiveness bolstered his resolve before it could crumble. Kakashi _will_ get better. “I-I don’t know what to do,” Iruka admitted.

“We should probably get him washed up first,” Tenzou said with a humorless chuckle. The wood-nin was obviously relieved now that the chuunin was cooperating. Both Leaf nin assisted in helping Kakashi up on his feet. It took very little encouraging on their part, as Kakashi seemed aware that he was in his home. He moved like a dreamer walking in his sleep, appearing to be only vaguely aware of the physical realm from a far off place. 

“How long has he been like this?” Iruka asked.

“The attack happened three days ago,” Tenzou answered “He just woke up this afternoon.”

 _’Three days?’_ Iruka’s mind reeled. That had been the day when he had been assaulted at the marketplace. It was an unpleasant thought that both he and Kakashi experienced such ill luck on the same day. Kakashi’s shoulder brushed against the wall and Iruka pulled the jounin away in time before he could stumble.

“Careful,” Tenzou warned with a grimace. “Sudden movements can make him sick up.” The evidence was all over the front of Kakashi’s uniform and the dried crust over Tenzou’s shoulder where he had carried the copy-nin. Iruka kept Tenzou’s warning in mind as he led Kakashi down the hall with gentle tugs on Kakashi’s wrist with the wood-nin trailing behind. 

“Why did you bring him here?” Iruka asked once they reached the bathroom. He placed a hand over Kakashi’s chest to prevent the jounin from walking into the closed door. “I mean, if this is not the first time this has happened, than you have some sort of…routine?”

“Honestly, he just needs bed rest and someone to watch over him. Senpai makes a speedier recovery more when he’s somewhere familiar, and with someone that he trusts.” There was unmistakable bitterness in that last statement. “Maito Gai usually watches over him.”

“He doesn’t trust you?” Iruka winced at his own words. The bonds of comradeship were not something to be carelessly treaded upon.

“Senpai isn’t right in the head when he gets like this, and the last time my presence made the situation worse” Tenzou sounded truly regretful “Senpai trusts me, but at the same time he cannot. I think it’s because we are too similar in strength, and we are both cut from the same mold in terms of our combat experience.” The word ANBU rang behind the wood-nin’s hollow tone. 

Iruka could not find a response. He simply nodded before opening the bathroom and flicking on the lights. He urged Kakashi inside with a gentle tug on the other man’s wrist. The thought came unbidden as he steered the jounin to sit upon the lip of the bathtub with Tenzou watching from the doorway. Did Kakashi really trust him, or was Tenzou-san making a guess? _’Stop it!’_ Iruka told himself irritably. Now was not the time to balk when there was work to be done.

Tenzou seemed to have picked up the chuunin’s uncertainty as Iruka began to unzip Kakashi’s stained flak vest. “Um, I could stay if you want…” he offered uncertainly.

“I think that I’ll be able to manage from here” Iruka said a little more brusquely than intended. It was easier to focus on irritation and to push aside the more anxious emotions of managing Kakashi alone. He gave the other man an apologetic smile. “I mean, you need rest as well.”

Iruka started and nearly reached for the kunai tucked in the small of his back when Tenzou suddenly appeared at his side as silent as a shadow. Tenzou pressed a small scroll into the chuunin’s palm. “If you need anything, open this seal and I will appear.”

“Thank you,” Iruka quietly said as Tenzou turned to leave “For bringing him home.” The wood-nin returned a respectful nod before closing the door behind.

With Tenzou gone there were only the sounds of Iruka’s rapid heartbeat and Kakashi’s shallow breathing echoing in the small room. “You’re a mess,” he told Kakashi as a means for something to fill the unnerving silence. With a deep breath Iruka dropped Kakashi’s flak vest to the floor then cautiously reached to remove the jounin’s hitate-ate. Kakashi made no motion against the personal invasion of his space, and soon the dark whorls of the active Sharingan were revealed spinning in fits and burst inside the eye socket. 

“Covering this up did little good,” Iruka muttered. He pointedly avoided directly looking at it as he ran careful fingers over the vertical scar to encourage the eyelid to close. Kakashi’s lips were still moving under the vomit-stained mask, the smell made Iruka wrinkle his nose as he peeled the filthy mask free from the jounin’s face. “Ugh, I’d rather toss this in the trash than wash it.”

“…ka?”

The sound of Kakashi’s voice made Iruka gasp and drop the cloth mask. “Kakashi?” he crouched to look up into the jounin face. Hope trembled in his breast as Kakashi’s grey eye flickered with the light of recognition. “Do you know where we are?” The grey eye blinked, followed by a stiff nod.

Iruka exhaled through a relived smile “Thank the First!”

“Iruka…” Kakashi whispered breathily, as if he were struggling to rise to the surface from a deep sleep.

“Yes?” Iruka moved closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose so he could better hear the other man’s response. Iruka withdrew after a long moment when he did not reply. Apparently Kakashi was only capable of communicating simple responses at this time, but Iruka was heartened by the other man’s lucidity. “Would you like a bath before bed?” Iruka asked, and after receiving another jerky nod for response Iruka reached behind Kakashi to turn on the facet. 

The sound of running water seemed to kick-start Kakashi’s routine for preparing to bathe. Kakashi’s long fingers grasped at the hem of his uniform shirt, and Iruka stilled him for a moment to remove the plated gloves before stepping away to allow the jounin to continue. Iruka felt heat creep into his face at the sight of Kakashi removing his shirt. The hot bathwater had enveloped the cold bathroom in a cloud of steam. Droplets of moisture clung to Kakashi’s lean frame as he struggled to pull the thick shirt over his head. Iruka watched with fascination how the jounin manipulated his muscles to flex and shift, and the chuunin felt his heart rate increase as he took in the lean muscle adorned with countless scars that were trophies gained from battles survived.

Iruka swallowed down a hard lump when Kakashi’s finally popped free of the shirt. His blush deepened when Kakashi’s moved to fumble with the fly of his black uniform trousers. The sensei’s eyes strayed to the jounin’s pale-white hipbones peeking above the hem as the button came undone, the hard muscle of his abdomen followed the contours of a flat stomach where a downy trail of silver traveled down from his navel to…

“I---you---uhm…“ Iruka choked. He pointedly avoided looking at the jounin before backing away, almost scurrying for the door. “I’ll come back when you’re done!” he said in a rush before slipping out of the bathroom and into the dark safety of the hallway. 

Iruka was immensely relived to be given an out to this awkward situation. Shame now burned in his cheeks. He was disgusted at himself, behaving like a pervert when Kakashi was at his weakest. Ogling at an incapacitated comrade was every shade of wrong. With a heavy sigh Iruka made his way to the kitchen to pass the time. Flicking on the lights in the kitchen he groaned at the mounted wall clock. It was half past two in the morning and he doubted that he was about to return to sleep anytime soon.

It was not as if Iruka had been enjoying prolonged sleep these last few days anyways. His nerves had been frayed threadbare after the incident with the Hatake clansmen, and now was dealing with a near comatose Hatake Kakashi.

He decided then that tea would do wonders to help settle his nerves.

As Iruka waited for the teakettle to boil he paced from one spot in the kitchen to the next, his hands scrubbing fretfully through his loose hair. Normally Iruka was the sort to be confident in his abilities. He regularly taught first aid to his students and he had experience patching up fallen comrades out on the field…but watching Kakashi undress had utterly shattered Iruka’s ability to disassociate himself from his duty. He could only blame sexual frustration True, he had found Kakashi handsome before their marriage, and his attraction to the copy-nin had manifested into something more in the past month. It had taken the innocent offering of a green feather to make Iruka put both his mind and heart together, that he was falling for Hatake Kakashi, and falling _hard._

And he was terrified.

It was not because he wanted more than a relationship built on convenience and lust, but it was because he was already married to the man. There will be no simple path of escape if whatever it was that was cultivating between them withered and died. Would he come to hate Kakashi enough to loathe him? Would Kakashi feel the same disdain for Iruka as well? The faded scar itched between Iruka’s shoulder blades, an uncomfortable reminder of a different lover that had literally stabbed Iruka in the back. “Nope, nope. Not going there,” Iruka growled as he again scrubbed fingers through his dark hair. Now was not the time to wallow in his insecurities. 

The sharp whistle of the teakettle made Iruka jump like a cat doused in water, and with a dark grumble set about preparing a sieve of dry leaves and waited impatiently for it to steep. The soothing aroma of chamomile did nothing to calm his irritation as he poured the contents into a green ceramic mug. With his anxiety came the old craving for a cigarette to gnaw at the back of his mind. Chamomile tea was a piss-poor substitute for nicotine. He had to focus his mind somewhere else.

He was angry that Tenzou would assume that Iruka was able to take care of Kakashi in this state and he was afraid that his own misgivings were more than justified. Iruka fingered the small scroll inside his pocket before pushing aside the temptation to summon Tenzou. He had willingly taken on this responsibility and he was not going to retreat. Not when Kakashi needed him most.

Iruka inhaled a long sip from his cup and frowned at the clock. It was past three. Half an hour had passed since he had fled to the kitchen. Certainly Kakashi should be done with his bath by now… 

With a horrified gasp the teacup slipped free from his hands. The green cup shattered behind Iruka’s heels as he bolted into the hallway. He was so stupid, _stupid_ to have left Kakashi alone. In his helpless state Kakashi was entirely capable of drowning in the tub. 

Iruka stopped short when he neared the bathroom door. Icy cold fear gripped his heart at the sight of water pooling under the door and into the hall in a growing puddle. The facet had never been turned off. “Oh god, no no NO!” Iruka rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. With heart pounding and dreading what he would find, he pushed the door open…

…and found Kakashi exactly where Iruka had left him. Kakashi sat on the rim of the bathtub with head bowed and hands dangling from spread knees, the fly of his trousers partially undone. The overflowing bathtub soaked his trousers and overflowed to the floor where the jounin’s discarded shirt and flak vest had clogged the floor drain. Steaming water swirled about Kakashi’s ankles, the copy-nin appeared unresponsive to his discomforts of the physical world about him as his lips moved with soundless apologies to the voices in his head.

“Kakashi!” Iruka cried as he knelt before the jounin. Water soaked into his sweatpants as he cupped the older man’s face to look into his mismatched eyes. The Sharingan was open again, the black whorl lazily swirling.

“Iruka…?” Kakashi mouthed. Iruka could not hear him over the noise of splashing water. “You…gone.”

“I won’t do it again,” Iruka promised. He was not sure Kakashi had registered his response. With a grimace Iruka leaned to turn off the facet and flung the sodden shirt out into the open hallway. He will worry about mopping up the water later, Kakashi came first. With professional determination Iruka blanked his mind as he removed the sodden trousers from Kakashi’s body.

A bath was out of the question. Iruka opted to give the other man a sponge bath instead. He scrubbed the elder man’s back but thankfully the gods granted the frazzled sensei a small shred of mercy by giving Kakashi the coordination to do most of the work himself.

~*~*~*~*~

Bathing Kakashi from his post-mission grime turned out to be the easy part. Preparing him for bed was a different matter entirely.

Kakashi’s personal bedroom turned out to be frighteningly sparse, almost clinically so. Two framed pictures and a single scraggly plant hung over a double bed set with its headboard against the lone window. There was nothing else to give evidence of the jounin’s personality on the room. Iruka had expected to find something, even _Icha Icha_ paraphernalia taped to every available space on the wall, but not this hollow box of a room. 

He steered Kakashi to sit on the bed as he searched the room for suitable sleepwear. The closets held only spare uniforms and formal wear, and after some digging he found a pair of loose black sweatpants inside a shelf under the bed. With almost medical detachment he eased the loose material over Kakashi’s hips with the towel providing a shield. Iruka was determined to preserve the man some semblance of dignity.

Kakashi did not speak throughout the entire ordeal, even when Iruka peeled back the coverlet to tuck him into bed. Whatever cognition Kakashi had regained he appeared to have regressed during that half hour alone in the bathroom, and Iruka cursed himself for it. 

Iruka did not want to look at the alarm clock set between the framed photos over the bed. He was beyond exhausted, his nerves frayed threadbare from the emotional ups and downs of the night’s ordeal. Once he had Kakashi settled Iruka was of a mind to mop up the water in the hallway when Kakashi’s hand sprang to grip an iron-tight hold over his wrist. Iruka blinked at the pale hand with mild surprise. Kakashi gave no indication how he had anticipated the chuunin’s thoughts as he laid bare-chested under the blankets, his duel colored eyes staring at a fixed point on the ceiling. 

“Okay,” Iruka mumbled as he gently pried the pale fingers from its bruising grip. “I‘ll stay,” he reassured as he moved to turn off the lights then crawled over the bed. He settled himself over the covers to Kakashi’s right, close to the door so he may be able to easily slip out. He did promise to not leave Kakashi again, at least until the other man had fallen asleep. The cold air clung to his damp clothes, and Iruka focused on that discomfort to help him stay awake as he listened to the sharp shallow breathing of the man beside him.

After a few long minutes in the darkness listening to Kakashi’s breathing without change Iruka gave a tired sigh and turned to face his companion. The faint light of the crescent moon gave a lithe light through the window over the bed, and with it he could make out Kakashi’s profile and the glint of his open eyes staring at the ceiling. “Hey, Kakashi?” Iruka asked softly. He propped himself up on one elbow to get a better look at the other man’s expression. 

What Iruka found was the most unsettling sight he had ever seen. The Sharingan glowed like a cursed ruby in the darkness, but what had startled the sensei was not the unnatural eye but the tears that were silently leaking from it like colorless blood from an open wound. Nothing else about the jounin’s face showed any emotion, and what frightened Iruka most was that it was the grafted Sharingan that was capable of expression, and it spoke volumes of the inner turmoil waging inside the copy-nin’s heart. 

Iruka could find no comforting words that could ease Kakashi’s pain. As the chuunin often did in these situations he followed his instincts to convey what he could not say through touch. Hesitantly, Iruka’s hand hovered over the unresponsive face then ran his fingers through the damp silver hair. Kakashi’s breath hitched, and then evened into deep cleansing breaths as Iruka’s fingertips gently massaged his scalp in soothing repetitive motions. 

As the seconds turned to long minutes Kakashi finally began to relax, the tension leaving his body in small increments. The light of the Sharingan had dimmed and its tears were gone. Kakashi’s eyes fluttered half closed as he inclined his head for more of the chuunin’s touch.

Iruka abruptly stopped with his hand resting over Kakashi’s head. Iruka too fell under the tranquil rhythm and without realizing he had been humming a half-remembered lullaby under his breath. 

The memory came to Iruka like a knife piercing through his heart. This was something Iruka’s mother had done when he was very young to chase away nightmares following her child back to sleep. He had buried this precious memory long ago as young boy coping with the crippling grief that was the loss of his family. Iruka’s hand trembled as he resumed stroking Kakashi’s hair, he was grateful for the comforting blanket of darkness. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to chase that briefly recalled feeling of security and peace that only his mother could provide. But it was gone, as gone as his mother and father on that night the Kyuubi had ripped them from their child’s life.

Iruka’s eyes snapped open at the feel of cool skin press against his cheek. His breath hitched upon seeing Kakashi mismatched eyes staring directly into his startled brown. Kakashi’s finger pressed against his cheek where he had caught a tear Iruka had not been aware he had shed.

“Why are you sad?” Kakashi asked, his whisper a soft rasp in the darkness.

“I was,” Iruka replied just as softly, afraid that he might break the spell that had brought Kakashi to the surface. A relieved smile tugged at Iruka’s lips as his hand left Kakashi’s hair to trace over the jounin’s knuckles before allowing their fingers to intertwine. “But you came back to me.”

Kakashi released a sigh that deflated the remaining tension from his body. His hand fell away, still held in Iruka’s gentle grip as his eyes fluttered shut to drift into a true peaceful sleep.

Iruka had remained frozen in place long after Kakashi’s breathing had evened into the steady rhythm of slumber. _’He…comforted_ me _after everything he’s been through?’_ Bewildered, Iruka tried to puzzle why he felt just that, and why he felt so inexplicably safe just in the act of holding hands with the other man…his _husband._

With a small groan Iruka rested his head against the pillow as he watched the jounin’s profile for any signs of distress. He was too tired to spare any more energy to troubled thoughts. He would wait a few minutes, just to make sure that Kakashi was alright. 

Just a few minutes more…

~*~*~*~*~ 

The pale light of dawn woke Iruka with its glaring brightness. With a grumble he threw the blanket over his face against the accursed sun and snuggled into the soft haven that was his pillow. It was odd that he had neglected to close the drapes the night before.

Brown eyes snapped open as memory of the previous night came crashing over Iruka’s head. In a flash he scrambled out of bed, but was thwarted by his foot becoming tangled in the sheets and was unceremoniously dumped backwards onto the floor with an undignified ‘squawk!’ that was loud enough to wake the dead.

He was in Kakashi’s room, sleeping in Kakashi’s _bed._ And Kakashi was nowhere to be found. 

Iruka disentangled his foot and spared a few moments woolgathering, blinking owlishly at the dust motes dancing in the light of the open curtains. He did not remember crawling under the covers or falling asleep next to Kakashi, for that matter. Oddly he did not feel disconcerted of that fact. He _should_ feel disconcerted. On the contrary, Iruka had not slept as soundly as he did since moving into the house…“It’s too early for this!” Iruka groaned and with a will he slapped his cheeks to force wakefulness to his senses. If Kakashi was up Iruka had to find the jounin before the man could get himself into further mischief.

Iruka did a quick sweep of the house, but other than the water damage outside the bathroom and waking in Kakashi’s bed there was no sign of the man himself. _’He must have gone off to the Memorial Stone’_ Iruka thought with a sinking feeling. He did promise that he would not interrupt Kakashi’s post-mission vigil again. He was about to resign himself to cleaning the bathroom when he felt a spike of chakra outside in the gardens. Cautious, Iruka suppressed his chakra and made his way to his personal office to investigate through the window.

He found Kakashi alone in the garden lawn in the midst of some warm up exercise. It was no form Iruka recognized, a long combination of spinning kicks, punches and stretches, a graceful form without wasted effort. All that he lacked was chakra or a blade in his hands, but even those accessories would be moot. The autumnal cold did not seem to bother the jounin. White puffs of breath trailed a passage from the cloth mask. A fine sheen of sweat clung to his bare chest, glistening in the grey dawn. His body thrummed like a chord, a flick of a wrist or a spin of a heel able to crush bone and sever tendon without interrupting his dance. 

There was something off about the jounin’s stance, as if Kakashi was fighting an inward battle upon himself than projecting his energy outward on an unseen enemy. Iruka could see how Kakashi’s form was over exaggerated, his lean muscles taut and straining to reach something far beyond his reach.

Iruka felt his mouth go dry and he nearly ducked to hide behind his desk. He had thought Kakashi beautiful the night before, but as he was now the man was the visual embodiment of a seasoned warrior in his prime. Mesmerized, Iruka found that he was far from content to just watch the jounin engage his invisible opponent but uncertainty held him back. Frustrated, the chuunin’s hands clenched over the windowsill until his knuckles turned white, and he let out a long, exasperated sigh. 

Green movement caught the corner of his eye; his breath had fluttered Kakashi’s green feather he had left to catch the light on the windowsill, evoking sun-kissed spring leaves the same color that was a part of the Haniwa kimono. The sight of it stirred something in Iruka’s gut, an inexplicable urge to seek out any excuse to touch the other man. Iruka picked up the feather and twirled it between two fingers as he considered. He knew Kakashi well enough by now to anticipate that the jounin would never mention what had transpired between them last night. If any progression into this new territory was to be made Iruka had to be the one to take the next step.

 _’This could end badly,’_ a traitorous voice whispered in the back of Iruka’s mind. _’What you have now is safe. Predictable. Comfortable.’_ Iruka could retreat now and leave Kakashi to fight his inner demons alone, and they both could continue as they had, as two people living separate lives inside one house.

“Why are you so sad?” Kakashi’s soft voice whispered from the stillness of Iruka’s memory, and with it the feel of cool finger pressed against his cheek.

 _’And if I want more?’_ Iruka thought back _’If he wants more?’_ His hand closed around the feather, tight enough to nearly crush it. _’Then we’ll both be damned.’_ In the end it all amounted to one stark and simple truth: It was ludicrous for a shinobi to pass up even the remote chance for a sliver of light to penetrate an existence shrouded in violence and death.

With newfound resolve Iruka tucked the treasured feather inside a book before digging into his desk for a spare band to tie his loose hair back. _'You face armed children everyday.’_ Iruka firmly told himself as he slid the window open. _’Kakashi is just one man.'_ Giddiness quivered in Iruka’s stomach as he worried his bottom lip. Memories haunted Iruka’s newfound determination, of bitter words exchanged before the wedding, of Kakashi helpless state last night, and their tense exchange at the Memorial Stone. _’You’ve already seen him at his worst. Try to see him as he is now.’_

Hiding his nervousness under an impulsive grin, Iruka placed two fingers before his teeth and let out a piercing whistle that ripped through the tranquility of the morning dawn. Startled from his reverie, Kakashi leaped two paces in the air before spinning about to confront the offending noise. His tense body relaxed marginally at finding the chuunin as the source of the noise, and even at this distance Iruka could identify the cocktail of emotions that warred for dominance over the exposed section of the jounin’s face: indignation, apprehension, curiosity, intrigue. It was amazing how quickly Iruka had learned to interpret emotions from a single grey eye.

Puzzlement furrowed Kakashi’s brow as Iruka stepped into the clearing without a word, he unsure of what to make of the younger man's grin. Kakashi cocked his head, his visible eye narrowing with suspicion. If Iruka was going to crack some tasteless joke about what happened last night...

Without a word Iruka slipped into the lawn, his bare feet making footprints in the dew laden grass. Iruka yanked off his loose t shirt tossed it carelessly to the damp earth. With a challenging smirk, Iruka flexed his arms overhead, feeling joints pop and cramped muscles stretch. He felt a guilty twinge of satisfaction at how Kakashi's eye had widened with a blush warming his pale skin, before the eye turned lazy and appreciative. Kakashi did not hide that he liked what he saw. Iruka did not back down from the other man’s intense gaze, and with a blush of his own his dark eyes gave the jounin’s body a long appraising sweep. 

For a moment Kakashi’s eye was at the risk of falling out of his head in shock, but fortunately the infamous copy-nin was made of sterner stuff and was able to salvage his fumble with a sly arch of his eye. Without a word he shifted his feet. _Well, _his stance said, and an invite to a challenge. _What happens now?___

__Goosebumps pebbled Iruka’s flesh in the cold morning air, but he paid no mind to that small discomfort. He would be warm soon enough. His dark eyes bore down on the elite jounin as he took up an offensive stance to challenge the copy-nin to a sparring match. After a moment of silent scrutiny from Kakashi, Iruka quirked his lips and twitched his outstretched hand as if beckoning a pet. The motion appeared to have hit a particular nerve on the jounin’s ego. Kakashi’s eye narrowed slightly at the taunt...and in a flash Kakashi was upon him._ _

__It was all Iruka could do to keep up and skirt away from the flying fists and kicks, as lightning quick as Kakashi’s chakra nature. It was less of a dance and more a game, the one unspoken rule to not involve chakra in their movements. There was power behind the two shinobi’s attacks, but without the deadly aura of killing intent. It felt calm in a zen sense, all their attention focused on breathing, focus, and anticipating the opponent’s next move. No words were exchanged, only the soft grunts of labored beathing and slap of flesh blocking attacks. Adding to the rhythm was the soft whisper of cold damp grass sliding against bare feet._ _

__Kakashi was testing Iruka’s ability, his blows calculated just so to see how far he could push the chuunin to react. Iruka did not mind. Kakashi was a weapon honed to razor-sharp efficiency on the battlefield, and Iruka was a village bound shinobi with only his students as regular sparring partners. But children were inventive devious little monsters._ _

__Iruka sidestep a kick aimed to take out his footing, and dodged a following roundhouse kick. Skirting back, Iruka allowed the jounin to herd him where Iruka wanted to go, using his shins to block Kakashi’s advance when the copy-nin pressed too close. When he deemed that he was close enough, the chuunin flipped backwards in a graceful flip, his cart wheeling feet dealing a glancing blow to Kakashi’s chin, but striking the other man was not his intent. With one palm planted in ground his free hand snatched the wadded grey fabric of his discarded shirt. Twisting his torso about, Iruka landed back on his feet and flung the wet garment into Kakashi’s startled face before charging head on, intending to dive for the other man’s legs and bring him down to the ground._ _

__His plan to temporarily blind the jounin backfired spectacularly. Kakashi’s head snapped to dodge the garment and a pale hand shot out to snatch the damp shirt out of the air, looping it about in an improvised snare to catch Iruka’s outstretched foot. Without chakra to cement his feet Iruka’s heels skidded in the grass as he was yanked forward and with a yelp he landed hard on his back, the breath knocked out of him. In that moment catching his breath, Kakashi appeared kneeling above to pin his wrists above his head._ _

__“That was a dirty trick,” Kakashi panted above Iruka’s face. It was the first words spoken between them that morning. Kakashi’s masked face lowered until he was nearly nose-to-nose with the scarred chuunin, his smug grin practically oozed from the seams around the fabric mask. “I wouldn’t have thought the upstanding Iruka-sensei—“_ _

__Iruka cut in with a Cheshire grin “Then you’ll like this one!” Tucking his legs, Iruka kicked out at Kakashi’s solar plexus as hard as he could, and had the satisfaction seeing Kakashi’s startled face sail out of sight overhead. The jounin landed flat on his back with a startled “Oomph!” Iruka wasted no time scrambling to his feet to straddle the other man, digging his sharp knees into pressure points in Kakashi’s thighs and pressing his weight into his elbows to pin both the man’s arms to one side to force Kakashi’s body to twist so that his limbs were rendered useless._ _

__Breathless from the exertion, Iruka grinned triumphantly down at the glaring, squirming copy-nin. “Do you give?”_ _

__Kakashi ceased in his struggles to regard the chuunin who had successfully pinned him with newfound respect. The glare softened as the grey eye crinkled with an unreadable expression. “Hm, it depends on what I’m getting...”_ _

__The lazy purr sent a shiver up the sensei’s spine. His breath hitching, Iruka instinctively eased the pressure on Kakashi’s arms, allowing one of the pale hands to slither free. Neither man broke eye contact, their faces were close enough for the steam of their labored breathing to intermingle. The unguarded look on Kakashi’s face gave Iruka an almost overwhelming urge to run his fingers through that unkempt mess of silver hair like he did the night before, but he could not tear himself away from the intensity of the jounin’s gaze._ _

__”Iruka…” Kakashi said breathlessly, his freed hand went up to trace the contours of Iruka’s left temple, and Iruka was about to close his eyes and lean into that touch when Kakashi’s words stopped him short. “What happened to your hair?"_ _

__It took a heartbeat for Iruka to connect what the jounin had inquired, and that Kakashi was fingering the freshly shorn bangs of his hair. The hair that had been the target of the Hatake children’s planned assault at the marketplace a few days ago._ _

__Iruka sprang off the jounin as if he were made from hot coals. He face had gone ghostly white upon the realization that he had neglected to don his hiate-ate to hide the evidence. _'Stupid stupid stupid!!'_ and without thinking Iruka ran a hand over his naked forehead in an unconscious attempt to undo the damage already done. _ _

__“Iruka…?” Kakashi had sat up until he was half-risen to his knees, concern marked his features._ _

__“Oh, this?” Playing it cool, Iruka forced a weak smile as he tucked the shortened strands of his hair behind one ear. It bought him a precious moment to recall the story he had prepared. “Do you remember Kenbei? He brought another shuriken to school the other day.” Iruka let out a self-depreciating chuckle. “I wasn’t so quick to dodge out of the way.”_ _

__Kakashi gave the sensei a long considering look as he settled cross-legged on the damp graass. “Hmm…” His grey eye flickered as he began to pluck stray grass blades from his black sweatpants._ _

__Iruka could not interpret Kakashi’s neutral response. It was a struggle for Iruka to keep his features smooth, so he yanked off the hair tie to fuss with his hair, a poor mask to hide the flush he knew was warming his face. He was determined to stick to his story, no matter how hard the other man might prod. Kakashi must absolutely _not_ connect his family clan to this conversation._ _

__“Is not my place to say how you should do your job…” Kakashi said suddenly, and Iruka paused from fingering his hair to listen to the jounin’s careful tone “…but a leader must be strict to enforce discipline on those that bend the rules. Others might follow suit, which could lead to greater infractions.” Kakashi’s voice hardened “That habit is a hard one to break, and it is best to nip it clean off the bud before it has the chance to take root and sprout.”_ _

__Iruka barely suppressed betraying his relief. “Yes, you are absolutely right.” He met the older man’s gaze and summoned a sheepish smile. “To tell you the truth, I was embarrassed to allow things get too out of hand.” The lie felt bitter on his tongue. Iruka did not want to appear more a fool but he was resolved to plow through. He had given his word to Yukari and Akemi, after all._ _

__Kakashi listened with half an ear as Iruka nattered about the latest antics wrought by his class. The jounin made the appropriate noises expected of one engaged, but in reality he was listening with practiced detachment as the greater bulk of his reasoning assessed the chuunin’s behavior, of how his pupils had dilated with the carefully placed words, and how he had relaxed upon the belief Kakashi had taken the bait. To anyone else Iruka’s story would have passed with that ready smile and self-depreciating attitude, but Hatake Kakashi had been raised on the edict to ‘Look beneath the Underneath.’_ _

__It all added up to one solid conclusion: Umino Iruka was many things, but a convincing liar wasn’t one of them._ _

__The severed hair brushing the sensei’s dark eyes incited old scars to fester to the surface of Kakashi’s psyche as welts made fresh by his anger. No accident could have been the cause, by his professional observation, the uneven edges of Iruka's hair had been made by a clean slice close to the base of Iruka’s scalp where he normally gathered his hair. This had not been a random attack. This was a personal blow aimed at Kakashi himself. And someone had used _Iruka_ to get at him._ _

__The flash of the jounin’s sharp teeth were hidden behind the cloth covered mask. Kakashi had meant every word that a leader should enforce discipline before the infection could spread among the ranks, and he was going to enforce his will even if he had to pull a few teeth. Kakashi had no intention of pulling any of his own when he paid his estranged family an unexpected visit._ _

__~*~*~*~*~_ _

__**TBC** _ _


	14. The Roof Over Our Heads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After so long a new chapter 14 is done! *whew!* Some craaazy things had happened in the last six months with me basically pushing the reset button to move back to my home country. It was a bit of a drag, but its good to be back among family and friends (I also bought a car and named it Prince Humperdink) 
> 
> I am baffled and amazed on how this fic took on a life of its own. In all honesty I probably would have abandoned it long ago if it weren't for the encouragement from you readers. This chapter is the most lengthy so far, but I also feel that it is the most polished thanks to [megyal](http://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal) for offering to beta it! <3 
> 
> As always, special thanks goes to the anonymous writer who wrote the prologue to my plot bunny that turned into a rampaging beast of a project, and to the overwhelming support from everyone that kudo'd and reviewed. Thank you! ^_^

“Oi, watch where you’re going assho—“ The middle aged shinobi paled upon the realization of whom he had bumped into and sprung away as if he had stepped barefoot on a bee. “M-m-my apologies, Hatake-san…” the genin spluttered.

“Think nothing of it.” Kakashi waved dismissively without breaking pace nor looking up from his _Icha Icha_ book. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking. Carry on.” The sweating genin was only too happy to comply and vanished in the hubbub of the crowd meandering through the main street of Konoha village. Kakashi observed the shinobi’s retreat with grim satisfaction. It was not unusual for low ranking shinobi to hire their services as local informants for the more prominent clans, and Kakashi had it on good word that this particular genin’s clients included the Hatake Clan.

Kakashi had survived too many battles to heedlessly rush into enemy territory without a plan. His first step was to make his presence known throughout the village. His estranged family would receive notification that Kakashi was spotted casually strolling in the direction of the Hatake compound with book in hand and appearing unprovoked. It was Kakashi’s intent to make his presence known before he confronted the Hatake clan. Plus, it gave him the time needed to cool his head and think of a proper approach lest he was tempted to cast a nightmarish genjutsu on the lot and leave them twitching and comatose through the next week.

Long ago, Hatake Sakumo had committed suicide after he had willingly abandoned a mission to save the lives of his comrades. The failed mission had posed adverse consequences for Konoha, and the villagers had turned their backs upon him in disgrace, including the very comrades he had saved. As the clan leader, Sakumo’s shame cast a dark shadow on the entire Hatake clan, and they too had shunned him. Sakumo’s suicide had only cemented that shame upon his son and the Hatake clan, and rather than associate with the son of a traitor Kakashi’s family had abandoned him to live far from the comforts of their ancestral estate. Kakashi had only been six years old at the time. He could never forgive his family abandoning him to that empty house when he had needed them most, and the dishonor of their cruel abandonment had followed his clan into their new compound.

Before long the great Hatake clan fell into a life of squalor while the child they had shunned rose in both reputation and rank to surpass that of their fallen leader. It was almost too much for some members of the Hatake clan to bear, and over the years they had made their disgruntlement known with some petty jab or another. The elder clansmen went to great length to avoiding Kakashi in the village as they knew better than to provoke a rank superior. It was always the youngsters that caused trouble for him. Kakashi had worked with many out in the field over the years, but their exchanges were e always strained. Inside the village walls they treated Kakashi with varying degrees of professional courtesy, but behind their stiff smiles the actions of their children were a reflection of how they truly regarded Kakashi within the privacy of their homes.

Kakashi glared at his book. He had not turned a single page since Iruka had departed for his shift at the Academy after their spar that morning. Despite the outward appearance of calm, Kakashi was simmering at a low boiling point. It was not the first time some idiots from the Hatake clan tried to rub Kakashi the wrong way. He knew that Iruka was a capable shinobi, as testament that he had lost only a few hairs from his scuffle with his attackers, but it disgusted Kakashi that his clan had used the chuunin-sensei to get to him. Attacking Iruka had more than crossed the lines of their petty feud. On top of it all Iruka had lied about the encounter and the deceit stank of interference from the shinobi inner council...most likely from Sarutobi Akemi, the sister to Sandaime Hokage. Kakashi was aware that the inner council had its own reasons to keep a close watch on his personal matters.

The copy-nin’s ears twitched at the sound his name being bellowed from somewhere above the crowd. He peered over his book and spotted an orange-clad figure on the roof of a high building across the street, waving wildly. Kakashi inwardly groaned. Naruto was the last person he wanted to encounter today. He whirled around and quickened his pace in hopes of making a fast escape.

Kakashi heard a loud crash behind from a vendor selling caged chickens. Of course nothing was easy whenever Naruto was concerned. He turned in time to see Naruto offering hasty apologies to the vendor trying to calm the angry birds flapping about in their cages and spraying white feathers into the air. Naruto spotted him once more, and Kakashi turned away in pretense that he did not notice the youth. This of course made Naruto’s determination all the stronger as he barreled through the crowd screeching: “KAKASHI-SENSEEEEEIIII!!!!”

Kakashi did a full body shudder at the cringe-worthy shriek of his name. Feeling defeated, he tucked _Icha Icha_ back into his pouch. There was no need to ‘bump into’ any more of the Hatake clan’s informants if Naruto was going to announce his presence to the world. With weary resignation Kakashi turned about once more to confront his former student. His slouched stance did not betray the apprehension he felt from his last encounter with the orange menace. A month ago Naruto had been among the first to learn about the announcement of Iruka’s marriage and had confronted Kakashi with a Rasengan along with a dire threat of Kakashi’s untimely demise if anything should go amiss with Iruka’s wellbeing.

Naruto’s heels made long tracks in the dirt as he skidded to a halt. The youth stared at Kakashi for a long moment before appearing to lose his nerve. Naruto’s mouth twitched as he glanced around nervously at the crowd that were giving them curious looks as they walked past.

“What is it?” Kakashi snapped irritably. He already had the unsavory task of meeting his clan today and he did not need Naruto heaping more onto his plate.

Naruto scratched the back of his neck before mumbling, “Um, can I talk to you?” His blue gaze darted back to the faces in the crowd. “Somewhere else?”

Perplexed at the Naruto’s odd behavior, Kakashi gave a quick nod and made a beeline for an alleyway leading to a small neighborhood garden for more private conversation. Naruto was uncharacteristically silent throughout the walk, and the copy-nin noted how he chewed his lip.

“Well?” Kakashi demanded once they had reached the garden. It was deserted as the autumn weather had withered the flowers and stripped the branches of its foliage. Kakashi scowled at the fidgeting youth, impatient for whatever Naruto wanted to say to be over with.

“I…I got something for you.” Naruto ducked his head then began to rummage through his pockets. Wadded up receipts and stray shuriken spilled from his pockets before he fished out a plastic wrapped rice ball and thrust it before Kakashi’s face, proudly declaring: “I got up early and made this for you!”

Kakashi regarded the misshapen lump. Pink salmon filling poked from the rice, from which Kakashi assumed had been properly packed in the center before it had been crammed inside an overstuffed pocket. The rice appeared warm and pasty as a result of Naruto’s body heat, and utterly unappetizing. 

“How…very thoughtful of you.” Kakashi was proud of the fact that he kept a perfectly straight face as he accepted the onigiri from Naruto’s outstretched hand. Naruto’s cooking skills did not venture far beyond adding hot water to a cup of instant noodles, but in all honesty Kakashi could not refuse a gift made by his former pupil. Kakashi tucked the mangled rice ball into his belt pouch and resumed walking through the garden ahead of Naruto, remarking, “It’s rare for you to freely give up your lunch, Naruto. So what’s this really about?”

Kakashi could hear Naruto make a muffled squawk at being caught. 

“Okay, you got me there,” Naruto grumbled before falling into step beside Kakashi. Naruto squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before blurting out in a rush, “I-I want to apologize for when I found out you were gonna marry Iruka-sensei!”

Kakashi nearly stumbled before he was able to halt in his tracks. He had been expecting to receive a vicious tongue lashing, not an apology. He faced Naruto in confusion. “Huh?” 

Naruto’s lips tightened and he avoided meeting Kakashi’s gaze. “I’ve been thinking it over and it was wrong of me to threaten you like I did. There is no excuse for what I did, but Iruka-sensei is the closest person that I got for a family.” A haunted shadow dimmed the light in Naruto’s blue eyes. “Without Iruka-sensei…I…I don’t know where I would be now or what sorta person I could’ve become if I hadn’t met him, and that scares me, like _really_ scares me.”

The warmth of a small smile brought a sparkle to Naruto’s eyes.. “It was because Iruka-sensei had faith in me that made me who I am today. So he is someone that I am determined to protect no matter what!” Naruto’s smile faltered. His whiskered cheeks blossomed pink from a shameful flush. “But doing so…had made me doubt you, Kakashi-sensei. Iruka-sensei had faith in me, but it was _you_ who taught me to have faith in myself.” His gaze lifted to meet Kakashi’s stunned expression. “You are just as important to me and I don’t want to lose you because of something stupid that I did.”

Kakashi was utterly stunned. Did Naruto truly regard him in the same light as his beloved Iruka-sensei? The thought made Kakashi want to swell with pride and at the same time hide under a rock. “Uhmm…thanks?” was his ineloquent response to the young genin.

Naruto did not seem to mind Kakashi’s awkward reply. A smile threatened to split the blonde’s face in two and he stood straighter as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “I know you are a perv like Jiraiya-san, but I know deep down that you would never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it!” Grinning, Naruto held out his hand. “Now that’s outta the way, can I have my lunch back?”

“Hmm…I don’t think so,” Kakashi hummed as he placed his hand protectively over his belt pouch. “As I seem to recall that you made the rice ball especially for me.” As much as Kakashi would like to return the poor excuse of an onigiri, watching Naruto squirm was much more fun, and Naruto did not disappoint.

“Why you….gahhh!” Naruto’s face scrunched, arms flailing at the unfairness of it all. ”Fine!” he huffed, then crossed his arms to deliver a pout at his former squadron commander. “But you better eat all of it! I worked really hard to get up and cook this morning!”

“I’ll savor every bite,” Kakashi promised with a grin beneath his mask, of which Naruto could clearly see through the arch of his visible eye.

“And ah…if it’s not too much trouble…” Naruto fidgeted with a piece of orange lint he had found in one emptied pocket. “Can I come visit your house sometime?” His mouth twisted into yet another pout. “Iruka-sensei is not much around at the Academy anymore, and I see you even less…”

“Stop by anytime.” Kakashi surprised himself at his ready response. He _never_ invited outsiders other than a select few into his home. But then Naruto was hardly an outsider. Naruto was someone Kakashi trusted more than those of his own flesh and blood. Kakashi shook off the strange revelation with a mental shrug. “Be sure to knock at the gate first. Iruka-sensei took it upon himself to booby-trap the garden walls.”

“Okay! I’ll be sure to knock first!” Naruto grinned as he turned to leave, and as in an afterthought he yelled over his shoulder, “If there’s anything you need Kakashi-sensei, please let me know!”

Kakashi couldn’t help but smile as he waved his goodbye before resuming his trek through the village. His heart felt a bit lighter somehow. Naruto’s rice ball made Kakashi’s stomach rumble to remind that he had skipped breakfast, so he found a plum tree that possessed a decent amount of cover for privacy and perched on a low hanging branch with his back to the trunk as he peeled the plastic wrapping off the onigiri. Something in the conversation worried at the back of Kakashi’s mind, like one of his ninken nibbling at a persistent flea. Kakashi mulled through the conversation to try and pinpoint what Naruto had said that affected him so.

_”I don’t want to lose you because of something stupid I did.”_

Kakashi shifted uncomfortably on his perch. Naruto’s past actions sat uncomfortably close to what he had had in mind to confront the Hatake clan. Kakashi’s tactics with the Hatake clan would be less direct than Naruto’s method of waving a Rasengan in his face, but the intent behind his threat would be made just as clear. Kakashi’s outraged reaction to Iruka’s assault would become the sledgehammer to their uneasy alliance;the Hatake clan’s attitude regarding Kakashi would shift from the murky truce fostered by dislike into outright distrust.. Kakashi realized then that the family feud between himself and his clan had to end, one way or another. If a war were to break out, Kakashi needed the Hatake clan ready and willing to follow his orders if anything like the attack from Sound were to recur. It was a possibility that made him cringe at the thought. Not because of the prospect of another war, but of what the elder council members had in mind for one Hatake Kakashi.

He was quite aware that the council was grooming him to take up the heavy mantle of Konoha’s Hokage, and Kakashi would do anything to derail them from selecting him as Godaime. It was not as if Kakashi doubted his own capabilities or dreaded the title, but rather that he was not ready for the position at this current point of his life. Since Sasuke’s desertion three years ago skirmishes had increased between all shinobi villages at a frightening rate. War was on the horizon, and Kakashi knew that his abilities would be in better service out commanding in the field than directing it from behind a desk. He had to do something before the choice to refuse the Hokage title was taken away from him.

There was only one person who could save Kakashi from that fate. Only one woman in fact, and Kakashi had to convince Jiraya to seek her out while the old pervert was still in town. But if neither the Council nor her former teammate could convince Lady Tsunade to accept the position of Hokage, than who could?

Naruto’s voice echoed in Kakashi’s memory _“Iruka-sensei had faith in me, but it was you who taught me to have faith in myself.”_ Kakashi had forgotten the effect his former student could have on people. Naruto was impulsive and excitable but he was sincere with what he wanted to say, and sometimes his words held insight and wisdom…which Kakashi believed was a glimpse of the adult Naruto would grow to become. Perhaps Kakashi could ask Naruto to convince Tsunade to return to Konoha and lead the village through the troubling times ahead, and Naruto _had_ promised to do Kakashi a favor.

Kakashi took a cautious nibble at Naruto’s lump of an onigiri and made a sour face. He took a deep breath and crammed the entire thing into his mouth in one go. It was god awful, but a gift from the heart created its own seasoning. Even if it was reluctantly given away. Kakashi’s eyes watered as he choked it down. He had promised to eat it, after all.

~*~*~*~*~

The new Hatake compound was located in the far western corner of Konoha village. The compound consisted of a tight cluster of three-storied apartment buildings and a few single level houses for the higher ranking members of the clan. Fourteen family units made their home inside the gated community, though it was in a sorry state. Despite the clean streets, the plastered facing of the apartments was faded and cracked, and the roofs over the few house sagged in sore need of repair.

The Hatake clan had fallen on hard times since Hatake Sakumo’s suicide, as funds from field commissions could only go so far against the prevailing superstition among the shinobi elite, which dictated against marriage contracts with a dishonored family, lest that clan’s misfortune be invited into their own. More importantly than their financial hardship was a possibility that the clan faced extinction. Shinobi blood must be mixed with shinobi blood, otherwise the secrets of the Hatake clan might weaken then forever disappear. As a loyal soldier of the Fire Nation it was a dilemma that Kakashi could not ignore no matter how much he had wanted to, which had prompted him to seek Iruka’s hand in marriage in the first place. Members of the Hatake clan was notorious for their stubbornness, and old habits die hard despite Kakashi’s success in marrying a Sarutobi clansmen to clear the superstition attached to the Hatake name once and for all. There was too much bad blood between them.

Kakashi entered the compound at a slow confident walk, his breath puffing visibly in front of his mask. The autumnal weather was crisp with the promise of frost later in the night. Kakashi could scent that particular bite, the ice stinging his nostrils. The hostility in the air was almost just as palpable enough to scent along with the sour hint of fear. Outside the compound’s gates Kakashi was a respected shinobi and scourge to Konoha’s enemies. Inside the gates he was not welcome to intrude upon their territory. Kakashi’s position gave him the authority but it was one that he rarely flexed, as Kakashi no more enjoyed his visits then they did.

As he had anticipated, several Hatake appeared from their homes and over rooftops to watch his progress into the heart of the compound. The weary civilians stared at him from their windows and balconies. The shinobi resting in alleyways or standing in the street moved to walk behind and alongside Kakashi, but made no move to halt his progress. Tradition bound the clan tighter than any chain to prevent them from outright attacking Kakashi with anything more than a spiteful glare. Even so, he was a wolf trespassing a den of foxes and he did not allow even a hint of tension to show. A wolf that flaunted unease would eagerly be set upon and devoured by those foxes.

Word had quickly spread of his arrival and by the time Kakashi entered the center of the compound his ‘escort’ had tripled in numbers to include nearly every able-bodied member of the Hatake clan. Kakashi could not make a firm count without his Sharingan but he estimated that they numbered around sixty. The heart of the compound was a large courtyard with a crumbling well at its center. In front of the well, an aging shinobi stoodover four huddled youths kneeling on the ground. In truth, Kakashi was clan leader in name alone. Whom the clan truly followed was Sakumo’s former second-in-command: Hatake Takenoko.

Tall and powerfully built, Takenoko loomed in the center of the courtyard over the four youths with his broad arms folded over his chest as he studied Kakashi from afar. Kakashi presumed that the youths before Takenoko were the culprits behind Iruka’s assault.

Silently, the other Hatake spread out to ring the courtyard as Kakashi alone strode through. He halted a good ten paces away from Takenoko, and he could see that the years had not been kind to his father’s former second-in-command. Takenoko's white hair had thinned to recede well above his Leaf hitae-ate to plainly reveal a mouth pulled into a permanent scowl, above which two grey eyes regarded Kakashi with cold suspicion. Hatake Takenoko was a character of stiff morals and possessed the infamous stubborn streak ofthe Hatake. He was also the man who had opted for the clan to abandon their ancestral home and shun Kakashi after Sakumo’s suicide.

Kakashi inclined his head in greeting, not surprised that Takenoko barely returned the gesture. “I see that you have anticipated the purpose of my visit,” Kakashi’s soft voice cut through the silence across the courtyard. He paused for a heartbeat to glance at the youths. “These are the ones?”

“They are,” Takenoko returned stiffly. One of the youths, a gangly boy, made an angry sound and shifted his knees in preparation to stand. The other three, two girls and a stocky boy raised fearful faces to take in the sight of their estranged clan leader. Takenoko spared the children a withering glance that immediately made all four drop their gazes back to the ground. 

Takenoko spoke once the children had been properly subdued. “After some probing we discovered that these four had acted alone without prompting from an outside party. I have it on good faith that their intent was to humiliate your spouse and not cause direct physical harm.” Takenoko's mouth quirked as he gestured to the kneeling youths with a twitch of a hand. “And as your spouse has not reported to the Council, I assumed that you wanted to deal with this matter personally.”

 _’In other words, you are offering me these children as a bribe in hopes that I would not inform the Sarutobi clan of Iruka’s assault.’_ Kakashi thought with a pang of disgust. _’You would trade in your own all for the sake of saving face with the Hokage and the council.’_ He coolly regarded the children awaiting their fate, and marked that none of them were over the age of fourteen. The stocky boy and one of the girls were trembling with tears streaming down their cheeks to drip onto the cobblestones. The other girl and the gangly boy had lifted their faces at the copy-nin in sullen defiance. Kakashi took Takenoko's assurance that they had assaulted Iruka without guidance with a grain of salt, as they were the product of their elders' prejudices against himself. Nevertheless, these children were young, and there was a small chance that they could be molded into reliable soldiers to benefit Konoha’s ranks. The prosperity of the Fire Country was ultimately Kakashi’s responsibility as a clan leader.

Kakashi maintained his silence for a long while for dramatic effect. Once he sensed the crowd surrounding the courtyard growing restless, he made his move, pointing to the stout boy and the girl with big grey eyes. “These two will accompany me on future C rank missions of my choosing.” The two children both let out a terrified squeak, and the sound solidified his decision. These two would follow his orders unquestionably out of fear and awe of his reputation. Under his supervision Kakashi could stamp out their timidity and bolster their nerve. His hand then flicked at the other girl and the gangly boy whofostered rebellion in their eyes. “The other two will work with me on farm duty.”

“B-b-but that’s below a D-rank!” the gangly boy sputtered. The girl made an angry sound of agreement. Both quailed under Kakashi’s dispassionate grey eye and fell silent, and Kakashi felt a small flicker of hope at their easy submission. Sometimes the best way to deflate a self-important ego was through menial work. If the pair could prove their worth mucking out barns then Kakashi would upgrade their mission ranking…but he saw no need to inform them of that just yet. These two were most likely the ringleaders of the group and deserved a month or four wallowing in animal dung. They had tried to _cut off_ Iruka’s hair, and Kakashi was quite fond of the chuunin-sensei’s dark tresses.

Takenoko seemed to consider Kakashi’s verdict before making a response. “How long do you intend to keep these four under your…tutelage?”

“Until I say so,” Kakashi snapped, allowing a fraction of his displeasure of the entire ordeal to show through the surface of his calm exterior. His voice was like a crack of a whip which made the children on the ground flinch. The timid youths looked as if they were about to wet themselves, and the rebellious two appeared apprehensive upon the realization that Kakashi had no intention of being an easy-going commander.

“Very well,” Takenoko said as he unfolded his arms to make a sharp gesture to summon a group of Hatake to lead the children away. With the matter resolved the crowd began to disperse and Kakashi was relieved that the palpable tension had lifted from the air. The clan did not like Kakashi as their official leader but they seemed to have found his judgment to be just and fair. The four youths rose unsteadily to their feet with warring expressions of relief and dread. Kakashi was certain that all four would not fail in undertaking their punishment as failing to do so would bring further shame upon themselves in the eyes of their family and peers. Their loyalty was unquestionably to the Hatake clan, and following Kakashi as a squadron leader was a separate matter from that of Takenoko.

Once the gathered crowd had dispersed sufficiently, Takenoko made an impatient nod of his head for Kakashi to follow his lead from the courtyard towards the main gate. Kakashi bristled at being treated as if he were a subordinate, but he consented for the rare chance to speak with Takenoko privately. Tucking his hands into his pockets, Kakashi followed the elder shinobi through winding streets flanked by tall apartment buildings in various states of disrepair.

“You made a fair judgement,” Takenoko said once they were out of earshot from the courtyard. “I had half expected that you would use that Sharingan as punishment.”

“I would never use the Sharingan on children,” Kakashi growled with disgust. He had experienced the nightmarish realm of the Sharingan by Uchiha Itachi’s hand and it was something no child should experience. _’Even though I was sorely tempted to use it on the lot of you earlier this morning.’_. It was a good thing Naruto had unwittingly intervened before his temper got the best of him. The fact that Kakashi had been toying with the idea was troubling enough. If Kakashi’s judgement of the Hatake youths had been unfavorable it would have caused more strife within his clan as well as irreparably damage Kakashi’s standing with the Council. Not many shinobi were allowed special influence on their village after committing a serious breach inside the sanctity of its walls.

Kakashi broke the uneasy silence with Takenoko by posing a question: “Why would you presume that I would harm them?” Inwardly, his thoughts flashbacked back to when he was six, numbly staring at the misshapen lump that was his father’s corpse sprawled on the floor. Kakashi vaguely remembered watching the bright blood soak through the white sheet before his father had been taken away, and then he watched the blood that had seeped into the tatami mats darken to rust as it dried. 

He also remembered the angry whispering and hostile stares of Takenoko and other clan-members as they paced around the room, giving as much space around the traumatized boy as they did to the bloody spot on the floor. ”Unclean,” one had sniffed at Kakashi. Another had growled, ”Sakumo should have taken him along to the grave.” _’Even after that, I had never lashed out in anger against any Hatake,’_ Kakashi thought. _Even if some of you deserved it.’_

“You are a good commander and a hero to our village.” Takenoko ignored Kakashi’s question. Steely grey eyes fixed on Kakashi’s masked face. “This…alliance you have made with the Sarutobi clan is twenty years too late. The loss of face that the Hatake clan has endured among the shinobi elite has annulled many alliances and potential contracts.” He paused to glare at Kakashi. “This one marriage of yours cannot undo all the years of suffering my clan has endured.”

Kakashi’s felt his muscles stiffen at the slight. _Am I not worthy enough to be included among my own clan even in conversation?’_

Takenoko continued, “In that time not one of the nobler houses would mix blood with a clan attached to a self-proclaimed traitor and we are weaker in both body and spirit because of your father’s shame.” Takenoko turned to face Kakashi, his mouth curled with disdain. “You should have officially revoked your claim as long ago. It would have been better to remove Sakumo’s stain than allow it to fester.”

Kakashi unflinchingly returned the older man’s stare. These sort of accusations were nothing he hadn’t heard before. _‘I wonder, how does my father’s disgrace compare to yours when you chose to abandon one of your own?’_ Kakashi very much wanted to voice the dark mutterings of his heart that had been lying dormant since he was six years old. In his effort to hold back his tongue he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. _‘You took everything in the mansion but left me behind like I was nothing more than a piece of trash. You were anticipating the battlefield would claim my life and give you leeway to take both estate and leadership with a clean conscience. You could never forgive me for the simple fact that I survived to adulthood.’_ Kakashi took deep breath to reign in his temper. He would not add more fuel to the flames of his dispute with the Hatake clan. He had to find some means to settle this petty feud once and for all. 

A sudden epiphany overcame Kakashi. Things could have turned out so differently if the Hatake clan had raised him while led by his father’s second in command. That young Kakashi would have found little love among his family, and he would have channeled his energy into gaining their approval rather than focus on the talents that had made him into the warrior he was today. Most likely Kakashi would have married off the moment he was of legal age and i shipped off to some distant province where his influence as clan leader would be nullified. 

Kakashi would have grown into a very different man, one who never had the opportunity to make his own path. In that life, Konoha would have been lacking a vital soldier in their ranks, and the comrades Kakashi had made during his service would not have existed; nor would he have had the opportunity to lead Team Seven. The fate of that other Kakashi never would had met Umino Iruka.

 _’I was fortunate they had left me behind.’_ At that realization the heavy weight that was Kakashi’s anger over his family’s neglect lightened. He felt as if piece of it had actually disappeared, like mist evaporating before the sun. Yet, the melancholic remnants still affected Kakashi as he gazed upon the wizened features of the embittered old man that was Hatake Takenoko. _’My greatest revenge was not the fact that I survived, but that I thrived into what I am today without your help, and denied the influence you covet among the high council and shinobi clans. You and the others had to live with the consequences of abandoning me, and you have suffered greatly in penance for it.’_

Kakashi understood then that the Hatake clan could never truly be his people, no more than he would be their leader in more than name. Kakashi had no intention of revoking his position. His title as clan leader was one he would yield only when they pried it off his tombstone. It was the last stubborn slice of his spite that he was only too happy to dish out…and Kakashi planned to live for a very, _very_ long time. The vast majority of Kakashi’s family were knuckleheads and assholes, but he himself had done nothing throughout the years to improve the Hatake clan’s predicament other than to ignore it, other than the recent exception of his arranged marriage to Umino Iruka…of which Kakashi did not regret.

Takenoko had drawn up short when they approached the rusted gates of the Hatake compound. The elder man stared at Kakashi with his arms folded across his chest as he waited for the jounin to make his leave. Kakashi had reached a decision and he intended to deliver it before stepping outside. The gates, made of metal tarnished and dull with reddish stains weeping rust onto the cobblestones, seemed to symbolize the emotions he had harbored against his family throughout most of his life.There was nothing here for him to rebuild. Beyond those gates Kakashi could forge on the relationships that would better suit his well being, those of his comrades…and most especially Iruka.

Hatake Kakashi had lived a hard life imbued with tragedy and loss. The smile the chuunin-sensei had gifted him that morning upon discovering the green feather was one that Kakashi wanted to cultivate outside the heavy shadow of his past. He would never be free from his anger over his abandonment, but perhaps he could be free of this feud by taking the first steps to burying the hatchet. Even if it was a hollow title, Kakashi was still the head of the Hatake clan, and perhaps there was one last thing that he could do to set things right.

When Kakashi had finished delivering his proposal he had the pleasure of witnessing Takenoko’s grim set scowl falter into confusion before dropping into open-mouthed shock, and for the last time the copy-nin departed from the ramshackle buildings belonging to his estranged family with a portion of his burden lifted from his heart. The future was an unwritten book full of uncertainties, but with his energy directed by the guidance of Iruka’s smile he may perhaps find contentment in the path he had chosen for himself.

~*~*~*~*~

Despite his accomplishment at the Hatake compound, that melancholy after speaking with Takenoko lingered like a bitter taste for Kakashi well into the late afternoon. He felt listless with nothing pressing to do, and he was unwilling to return to the daunting silence of his home. Kakashi wandered from one side of the village to the other. His thoughts were distracted even as he perused through the shops and frustrated the vendors by not spending a single coin from his purse. Kakashi was desperate for something or someone to lift his mood, and he was not entirely surprised when his aimless wanderings led him to stand before the entrance of the Academy where Iruka was hard at work training the next generation of the Fire Country’s shinobi.

Kakashi still knew so little about his husband. Beneath the surface of Iruka’s deceptively placid exterior concealed a hot temper and a fierce determination that made him a force to be reckoned with in. There was also an impish cunning behind the placid smile, and it was one Iruka had used during their muddied chase in the woods. Kakashi recalled that look of wicked delight when Iruka had flung the first mudball. Iruka had laughed often and easily that day, his face flushed from the cold rain and breath steaming through the loose wet strands of his hair. Kakashi had seen tears on that scarred face, and the depth of Iruka’s compassion that night when he had coaxed the copy-nin to climb out from his self-induced stupor. Kakashi would never forget the feel of Iruka’s fingers gently combing through his hair, or the sense of peace Kakashi had not felt since he was very young. Kakashi had caught a glimpse of the elements that made up Umino Iruka, and he felt a strong need to know more.

Kakashi realized that he needed a passable excuse for his unexpected visit. Perhaps he could entice Iruka to join him for a late lunch. Naruto’s mangled rice ball was a distant memory as far as Kakashi’s stomach was concerned. It was now grumbling in want to be filled. Kakashi squared his shoulders and strode into the Academy grounds.

He did not enter but circled around the building to peer through the windows. It was less intrusive than opening doors and Kakashi recalled that Iruka’s classroom was stationed on the ground level. In no time he found Iruka’s classroom. The students were bent over their desks scribbling at some sort of paper test, their young faces pinched with concentration. Iruka strolled between the silent rows of his students. His shorn fringe were tucked hidden behind his Leaf hitate-ate, his eyes eagle-sharp on the lookout for some unfortunate student cheating on their exam to catch his attention.

Kakashi announced his presence with a tap on the window. Iruka and his students looked up at the noise, and Kakashi felt a muscle in shoulders twitch at all the eyes directed at him. He gave a friendly wave to the children before gesturing at Iruka to step outside. The sensei’s expression wavered between exasperation and irritation but he complied after summoning a shadow clone to take over monitoring his students. Kakashi’s heart fell at the look of irritation over Iruka’s scarred face. The sensei was going to develop a wrinkle between his eyebrows if he wore that expression every day.

“Hey,” Kakashi said once Iruka had slid through the paneled door and closed it shut.

“What is it?” Iruka’s tone was brusque. His dark brown eyes darted between the perplexed copy-nin and the shadow clone prowling the rows of students inside the classroom. _’Iruka just might be the model of academic vigilance’_ Kakashi thought with a fond smile, hidden behind his mask. Kakashi skipped past the pleasantries before the irritated sensei lost his patience. He affronted a bored expression despite how his heart had quickened its pace. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”

Iruka’s eyebrows had shot up to nearly hide beneath his hitate-ate. In a blink the chuunin-sensei’s demeanor had changed. He bent his head to avoid the copy-nin’s gaze, awkwardly mumbling, “I—um, cannot leave my students unsupervised. It’s against regulations for teachers to leave academy grounds while class is in session.” He sounded truly regretful. Iruka looked up, and Kakashi could see the pale flesh of his scar contrasting with a faint blush. “But…would dinner work instead?”

“No problem,” Kakashi agreed with a casual shrug. His heart was now hammering inside his chest and his face felt very hot beneath the mask. Usually Iruka was guarded and defensive whenever he interacted with Kakashi, so why was an uncertain and bashful Iruka making him feel nervous and tongue-tied? “Where do you have in mind?” Kakashi smoothly asked without betraying his internal dilemma.

Iruka seemed taken aback as he apparently had not considered that far ahead. “W-would ramen okay?”

Ramen was not one of Kakashi’s favorite foods but he wasn’t about to turn down an offer to spend time outside the house with Iruka. Dinner and a few drinks was more appealing without the pressure for Iruka to return to work and it would allow for a more intimate setting. _’Wait’_ Kakashi thought with sudden clarity _’Did I just ask Iruka out on a date?’_

Before Kakashi could voice that question there was a loud **POP** inside the classroom followed by a cloud of blue smoke. Iruka whirled about to face the stunned classroom. With a few sharp motions he dispersed his shadow clone, shuddering slightly as its memories transferred to his mind. As the smoke began to fade Kakashi could see three children seated near the front of the classroom covered from head to toe in blue ink. Konohomaru sat blinking owlishly in his seat, the whites of his eyes the only visible feature through the blue ink. Iruka’s glare through the window made the culprits visibly gulp. Kakashi assumed that the unfortunate three had tripped some sort of anti-cheating seal inside the pens. Kakashi could not help but admire the creativity in Iruka’s non-lethal seals.

Iruka turned back to Kakashi and with a weary sigh, rubbed at the spot where his scar crossed over the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, but I need to get back to work.” Iruka’s hand twitched, then he tentatively reached out to grasp a bewildered Kakashi’s left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Something in Iruka’s expressive brown eyes released a swarm of butterflies to batter the insides of Kakashi’s stomach. It was not at all an unpleasant sensation. Standing so close to Iruka, Kakashi was sorely tempted to close the distance between them.

Iruka asked, “Would six o’clock at Ichiraku’s Ramen be okay?“

Kakashi recovered his poker face and dipped his chin into a quick nod. Iruka released Kakashi’s hand and bolted into the classroom to deliver a teacher’s wrath upon the unfortunate cheaters. The warmth of Iruka’s touch lingered in Kakashi’s memory as he sauntered off the Academy grounds. Kakashi began to chuckle at the Academy gate as he caught snippets of Iruka’s retribution echoing from the courtyard. He would have to keep in mind that the sensei possessed a very impressive set of vocal chords. Kakashi could have sworn that all the windows in the Academy had rattled in their panes.

If this truly was a date then Kakashi needed a strategy to plan ahead, and while the _Icha Icha_ were great for tips in the sack it was lacking as a source for practical dating advice. Fortunately he had a resource nearby that proved to be surprisingly knowledgeable in matters of romance. Though on the downside it meant Kakashi had to temporarily suffer the mercy of his kohai.

~*~*~*~*~

With light feet and careful steps Kakashi approached the plain wooden door guarded by two potted trees on either side. Yamato Tenzou’s apartment was easy to find no matter where the wood-nin decided to make his home. The first indication was that it was on the ground level where his chakra abilities were strongest and the second was that it was always in a location where his plants could get the best sunlight. 

For a long moment Kakashi was rooted to the spot as he contemplated the two innocent-seeming plants that would activate spiked vines to snare any intruder hoping to break in. The potted trees also dampened chakra signatures inside the apartment, so Kakashi was forced to knock and wait for Tenzou to answer if he was at home. Kakashi felt only a little pang of guilt for disturbing Tenzou’s rest, as his kohai had the habit of sleeping right through the day after returning home from a grueling mission. After a moment, the potted trees responded by lightly touching a branch to Kakashi’s arm. Once his chakra pattern was verified the lock on the door clicked and Kakashi let himself in.

Tenzou was not particularly neat with his housekeeping. A thin layer of dust coated the kitchen counters and small wooden carvings that the wood-nin was of a habit to collect. A few articles of dirty laundry laid scattered in the hallway but the air was fresh from the abundant plants that lined every windowsill. Kakashi did not often visit his comrade’s homes but he genuinely enjoyed the smaller space and the homey feeling Tenzou had cultivated. Throughout his youth Kakashi had lived between the empty Hatake mansion and a small apartment in the center of the village, and between the two he enjoyed the apartment more.

Kakashi was in the process of removing his shoes when Tenzou poked his head through the curtained door that led into the living room. “Oh, hey Kakashi! I’m glad to see you up.” Kakashi could see that the Tenzou had forsaken his face protector and uniform in favor of his favorite bathrobe, the faded purple one with little yellow stars that were cropped well above his knees. Under the mask, Kakashi’s lips twitched to form a smirk, but he withheld his amusement upon seeing the genuine look of concern over his kohai’s face. The wood-nin slipped through the blue patterned curtain to better study Kakashi. 

“Have you checked in for a physical at the clinic yet?” Tenzou asked. “You were in pretty bad shape before I brought you home.”

“Ah, that.” Kakashi had the good grace to flush. With everything happening with Iruka and the Hatake clan today he had forgotten about the ill-fated ANBU mission in Cloud Country to assassinate a rogue Cloud-nin. Kakashi had attempted to copy the target’s genjutsu with the intent to counter the attack with one of his own, but instead he had fallen prey to the nin’s blood limit ability to turn Kakashi’s own genjutsu against him and cause the Sharingan to go haywire. The details of the journey home following the battle were hazy with Kakashi trapped in his own genjustu and in various stages of consciousness, but he did remember Tenzou had carried him back to Konoha. 

“How is Kenichi?” Kakashi asked of their third teammate. “I don’t recall what had happened to him after the battle.”

“Oh, Kenichi sustained a minor foot injury and couldn’t carry you on the account that it would slow him down.” Tenzou scowled and raised one eyebrow at the copy-nin. He was obviously not going to allow Kakashi to dodge his question. “Well, did you check in for a physical or not?”

“I’m fine,” Kakashi groused. “It’s nothing that a few days of decent food and rest can’t cure. You know, normal tear and wear.”

“Senpai, you were vomiting all over my uniform for three days!” The wood-nin scrubbed at his short brown hair in exasperation as his voice bordered on a whine. “I’m tempted to throw out my uniform and buy a new one rather than deal with scrubbing out all the stains, and I ran my mask through the dishwasher twice already, but I can STILL smell your puke!”

“You have a dishwasher?” Kakashi was impressed. There were not many apartment units in Konoha that supplied luxury appliances like dishwashers. “Does it cost extra for your rent?”

Tenzou gave the older man a flat look, then he rolled his eyes in defeat. “Just…just be sure you go in to get checked today. And drink lots of water.”

“I promise that I’ll visit the clinic later,” Kakashi lied.

Tenzou let out snort. “I’ll believe that like I believe you will fill out your mission report today _and_ turn it in on time,” he huffed, then sternly added “But you WILL drink my tea, even if I have to staple a straw from it to your mouth!” With a final scowl, Tenzou spun on his heels to go into the kitchen to fetch Kakashi a spare teacup. As he did so, the short-cropped purple bathrobe flared to reveal that the wood-nin was wearing his favorite pair of boxer shorts, the lime green patterned with little hearts and leaves.

Kakashi bit his lower lip to suppress a snicker. He had to remind himself to resist teasing his kohai. He desperately needed Tenzou’s help, which was still a fact that Kakashi had trouble swallowing. Only the First knew why Yamato Tenzou possessed special insight on romantic relations. What baffled him the most was the fact that Tenzou had trouble getting a date most of the time. Bemused, Kakashi strolled down the hall to make his way through the blue hanging curtains that separated Tenzou’s living room…

…and found Maito Gai sitting on the sofa with a mug of tea in hand and staring intently at the television. Gai turned in his seat to deliver a massive smile of welcome at the bewildered copy-nin. “Ah! Kakashi-san!” the Green Beast cried with delight then gestured at the antiquated excuse that Tenzou used as a television. “I was not aware that you were a fan of _All My Ninja!”_

“All my…ninja?” Kakashi’s natural eye glanced at the television program, where two heavily pregnant kunoichi actors wearing thick mascara were arguing and throwing kunai while hanging their laundry out to dry. “Do you mean that cheesy old show?” he asked. The taijutsu master was one of last people Kakashi had expected to find lounging in front of the TV at Tenzou’s apartment. Kakashi took in Gai’s half-empty mug of tea the stale remains of two bento boxes strewn carelessly across the coffee table. Both indicated that the two jounin had shared lunch and had been visiting for some time.

“It’s an _All My Ninja_ marathon today” Tenzou explained as he sat on the sofa beside Gai. Kakashi took a seat in the armchair next to the television. Tenzou and Gai exchanged a grin. “It was only recently that we discovered that we are both huge fans of it!”

“It is so hip and modern, and yet ahead of its time!” Gai proclaimed. “It is such a tragedy that more people are not aware of such INVIGORATING storytelling before it was canceled!”

“It’s a soap opera.” Kakashi rolled his eye with a scoff. “I’d rather scoop out my eye with a spoon than sit through half an hour of that prattle.”

”You’d be surprised at what you can learn about relationships from it.” Tenzo coughed and pointed at Kakashi’s pocket where a traveling copy of _Icha Icha_ was nestled inside his vest. “Unlike some other sources,” he finished.

Kakashi bristled at the insult to his favorite book but before he could think of a scathing rebuttal all the pieces clicked in his brain. Kakashi stared at Tenzou, utterly mortified and incredulous. “So…what you said at the bar about ‘accommodating’ my home for Iruka-sensei…” he pointed at the television, “was from _THAT!?”_

“Ahh, I remember that particular episode!” Gai’s smile widened to reveal the full set of his pearly whites. “It’s the one where Hitomi-chan was about to kick Ryutaro-kun out of her apartment. If I correctly recall my _All My Ninjas_ official guidebook, it was an award winner!”

“You are right about that,” Tenzou said as he reached for an empty mug on the coffee table to pour tea for Kakashi. He directed his black eyes on the copy-nin, his expression shrewd. “So senpai, what brings you to my home today?”

“I…uhh…” Kakashi fidgeted in his seat and plucked at a loose thread dangling from the armrest of his chair. Already he was regretting his whim to seek Tenzou’s help, but he could not refute the results of Tenzou’s previous advice even if it came from a silly soap opera. It would have been easier if he only had to deal with Tenzou’s smug scrutiny, but Gai’s intense stare was unnerving. 

Kakashi frowned under his mask as he mentally berated himself for balking under pressure, and with grim determination he reported in a clinical tone: “The counsel you gave me on the eve of my wedding proved to have merit,” he paused a moment for his ego to wince. “Under that supposition I have returned to seek further advice.”

“As I suspected!” Gai folded his arms and nodded sagely as if he had known all along what Kakashi was about. “We must plan a proper stratagem for my rival’s worthy goal in the noble pursuit of LOVE!”

“Yeah, like you both have stellar records in relationships,” Kakashi drawled. Internally he was despairing at Gai’s use of the word ‘we.’ The other two jounin pretended not to have heard the copy-nin’s snide remark.

“Hmm.” Tenzou folded his hands beneath his chin to direct his wide black pupils on the copy-nin and Kakashi repressed the urge to squirm as he was studied as if he were a bug under a microscope. It was rare for their roles to be reversed, and it felt so _wrong_ for Tenzou to possess the upper hand. “So you want to get closer to Iruka-sensei, is that it?” Tenzou rolled his eyes when Kakashi simply returned the accurate assumption with an unresponsive glare. “Geez, senpai can be so indirect,” the wood-nin huffed under his breath.

Kakashi wanted to shrink beneath the cushions of his seat. His hands twitched, but before they could fly into a teleportation jutsu he was pinned down by the warning glares from his two comrades. Kakashi had a niggling suspicion that if he fled the pair would hunt him down and drag him back to Tenzou’s apartment by his ears. Tenzou had long ago learned to read the warning signs of the copy-nin’s rising anxiety and had pushed a ready cup of tea into Kakashi’s hands. 

Kakashi readily gulped the contents in hopes that it would settle his nerves. “But how can I get closer to him?” he mumbled after he had replaced the mask over his nose. “We are already married.”

“But you hardly know each other,” Tenzou pointed out.

“And yet there is such mutual ATTRACTION!” A stray beam of sunlight peeking through the window blinds glinted off the Green Beast’s pearly smile to temporarily blind the two other men. “Rarely have I ever seen such VIGOR, and such unbridled PASSION! I knew for certain that you two were meant to be the moment Iruka-sensei hit you in the face with that sake cask on your wedding day!” Gai beamed. “Why I dare say, sparks FLEW from Iruka-sensei’s eyes at that very moment!”

“That was because he was about to murder me.” Kakashi’s voice dripped venom beneath his mask. Humiliating Iruka on their wedding day had not been Kakashi’s best moment.

As usual, Gai paid little heed to the mood of his bristly rival. He struck a dashing pose that was utterly wasted upon his audience. “Iruka-sensei’s soil has been tilled and is ready for YOU, Kakashi-san, to PLOW the seeds of affection where the flowers of devotion will BLOSSOM into a blissful ROMANCE!”

Tenzou snorted tea out from his nose and flew into a coughing fit. Kakashi couldn’t help but crack a smirk at the overly dramatic taijutsu master. Chuckling, Kakashi said “Only you could make gardening sound so _dirty.”_

“Gardening?” Gai relaxed from his carefully constructed pose, looking confused. “I was referring to wooing the heart of your beloved husband!”

“Yeah, about that…” Tenzou coughed to clear his throat before the conversation could steer away from the heart of the matter. He fixed his intense gaze on Kakashi. “In regards to my previous advice…what have you learned about Iruka-sensei in the last two months?”

 _’One month and twenty-two days, to be exact.’_ Kakashi did not voice his mental correction. After all, he had been absent during the majority of that time on away missions. He had little opportunity to learn about the chuunin-sensei’s interests aside from his daytime job at the Academy. “I know that he likes to eat ramen.” Kakashi said after a thoughtful pause. “And today he sort of…asked me out to Ichiraku’s for dinner tonight.”

“You mean that ramen stand near the Administration building?” Tenzou hummed as he scratched his chin in thought. “Well, I suppose that is a good start.”

“I hear that Iruka-sensei visits that establishment quite frequently,” Gai added with his own ponderous chin rubbing. “By himself, and with coworkers and students.”

Kakashi couldn’t hold back his burning question any longer. “Does that mean we’re going out a date?” He felt his hope deflate when Gai and Tenzou exchanged a weighted glance. “It’s just a regular dinner, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Tenzou said carefully. “Iruka did invite you to his favorite place to eat, so it’s a good sign that he’s including you into an important part of his world.” Tenzou winced. “Although…” he trailed off.

“Although?” Kakashi’s eye slid to the Green Beast, who was fit to burst for his chance to speak.

“Though beloved as ramen may be to Iruka-sensei…Ichiraku’s is a place of routine, and it is mundane!” Gai’s fingers fluttered about as he emphasized his point. “There is no thrill of excitement to invigorate the restless spirit of YOUTH! A date should be something new and exciting! Such emotionally fertile ground could create a moment filled with MAGIC!” Gai pointed a meaty finger at the copy-nin. “You must seize the horns that is the charging bull of FATE for a collision that the pair of you will never forget!”

Kakashi had little inkling of what sort of ‘magic’ Maito Gai was referring to, but he was intrigued by the prospect nonetheless. “In other words,” Kakashi said slowly “We should try some sort of outing that neither of us has experienced before.”

“Exactly!” Gai crossed his arms, the very picture of self-satisfied triumph.

Kakashi was at a loss. Other than the local bars and hot spring resorts there was little in Konoha village that might constitute as a romantic setting, and what was readily available fell rather flat in that regard.

Tenzou had sensed Kakashi’s internal dilemma and came to his rescue in a form that his senpai could easily digest. “Here is the outline of your mission.” Tenzou held up four fingers to tick off his list. “One. Gather intelligence at dinner tonight to probe Iruka’s hobbies that are outside the confines of his everyday occupation.” He curled his second finger. “Two. Once said information has been established, instigate a conversation for elaboration. Three. Limit yourself to a five minute timeframe to think of a potential outing that may relate to Iruka-sensei’s interests.” Tenzou curled his final finger to brandish a fist. “Four. Once an aforementioned interests has been confirmed, ask Iruka out on a formal outing with your romantic intentions clearly expressed.”

Kakashi found himself nodding along to the wood-nin’s every suggestion. Tenzou made the whole procedure sound so _easy._ Even so, Kakashi felt uncertainty clouding his newfound confidence. He exhaled a slow breath and eased his grip around the empty teacup, before mumbling, “But what if he refuses?”

“Ah, I have not considered that.” Tenzou’s mouth formed into a hard line. “In that case we must establish what we know about Iruka-sensei before we proceed.”

Gai spoke up: “We know that Iruka-sensei is quite sociable around the village!”

“And you are not,” Tenzou added.

“He adores children, the shining foundation that is the very essence of YOUTH!”

Tenzou grimaced. “You…not so much.” 

“We also know that Iruka-sensei happens to spend most of his time EMBEDDING himself into the daily aspects of our beloved village!”

“And yet you are hardly around…but that’s not a surprise considering you’re a shinobi in high demand.”

“I get it, I get it!” Kakashi snarled before the pair could continue. He did not need his comrades to openly voice how he and Iruka were quite the odd pair, as Kakashi already knew that much. His eye flickered between his two ‘friends’ who were not improving his confidence. Inwardly, Kakashi reviewed what he had established about his husband at this point: Iruka is a sociable chuunin with a fondness for children. He has a preference for eating ramen, and he is dedicated to his duties and his occupation as a teacher. Even a socially awkward shinobi such as Kakashi could plainly see what he had learned so far was lacking in cultivating a romance.

Another thought occurred to Kakashi, one that he recalled from faded rumors and that morning Iruka had lured him away from the memorial stone into a muddied game of tag. “However…I have recently learned that Iruka is capable of juvenile mischief,” Kakashi said as he also recalled the viciously devious traps the sensei had set around the mansion to ward against invading Hatake clansmen. The next poor bastard who tried to jump the wall was going to find themself hanging upside down from a tree and painted pink from head to toe and doused in glitter.

“He likes to play tricks?” A vulpine smile tugged at the corners of Tenzou’s mouth. “Now _that’s_ something we can work with!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Kakashi demanded. His cup was long out of tea and his patience was at its limit.

“It means that he is ADVENTUROUS!” Gai elaborated with mounting excitement. “It’s no wonder our dear Iruka-sensei has such a rock SOLID connection with Konoha’s youth!” the Green Beast nodded in approval. “I feel even more reassured that the Fire Country’s progeny is tutored by such a man who can relate to his students!”

“I am inclined to agree.” Tenzou nodded with a knowing smile. “And I think I have just the perfect ‘date’ for you two in mind.” The look on the wood-nin’s face immediately put Kakashi on guard. He couldn’t help but be wary as it was in his nature to not be easily biddable. Tenzou held up a finger. “It’s the Firelight Gong Festival!” 

“What a SUPERB idea!“ Gai clapped his hands in approval. “If I recall my calendar correctly it is happening very soon…less than two weeks, in fact. Oh, surely you are a MARVEL for orchestrating romance, my fine-woodworking friend!” 

Tenzou appeared quite pleased with himself, despite wearing his purple star studded bathrobe, and he preened at the praise.

Kakashi ignored the two idiots. “Hmm, the Fire Gong Festival…” 

He vaguely remembered attending that particular festival shortly after Minato-sensei had assembled his student team. The Yellow Flash had thought it would be ‘healthy’ for the reclusive Kakashi to attend local functions and had dragged his protesting students to the autumnal event. From what Kakashi could recall, the festival was a shinobi-centric affair that consisted of a picnic-type atmosphere while several bonfires were lit deep in the forest. 

Once the sun had fully set a gong would sound for the game to commence: registered pairs and small groups would dispatch for an elaborate game of tag. The gong would sporadically sound as a signal for who was ‘it’ to switch roles and turn from hunter to prey and vice-versa until a ceremonial bell signaled an end to the game. Kakashi had started as ‘it’ and had utterly massacred Obito and Rin that one and only time they had played. Minato-sensei had later reprimanded his young student on the inappropriate use of ninjutsu traps to incapacitate his teammates just five minutes into the game.

Thinking back, Kakashi remembered an area of the forest that was marked off limits for the numerous adult pairs willing to participate in the chase. At the time Kakashi had assumed the area was restricted to protect unskilled minors from blundering into hazardous traps, but most of the adults had appeared to be couples that were eagerly awaiting for the chase to begin. Apparently the Fire Gong Festival appealed to lovers with less-than innocent games in mind. And considering the Iruka’s cunning nature and his expression of interest at Kakashi's shirtless form earlier that morning, the prospect of a chase in that regard, and perhaps being caught, made Kakashi’s heart thump hard in his chest. A steamy passage from _’Icha Icha: RETRIBUTION!_ sprung into his head, from the chapter with Eriko-chan swinging from vine to vine in her hunt to catch unwary shinobi and introduce them to the finer points of mid-air jungle sex. Kakashi shook his head to dispel the fantasy. No matter the outcome, experiencing the chase from either end would be thrilling. 

“Huh,” Kakashi said dismissively. His face did not betray his inner excitement. “Sounds boring.”

From the sly tilt on Tenzou's lips, it was obvious that he knew Kakashi was bluffing. “I can only imagine what Iruka-sensei would do when he catches you in one of his traps.” 

Kakashi twitched, feeling his face go warm and hoping that the exposed flesh above his mask hadn't flushed too deeply. Tenzou’s smile widened to a lewd smirk, patently enjoying the effect of his words on his normally aloof senpai. “I mean, think about it: the two of you secluded under the cover of darkness and you all bound up like a prettily tied present...” Tenzou paused to tap a finger to his chin, airily musing, “I wonder what Iruka-sensei would do when he finally decides to give you…release?”

Kakashi swallowed. Hard.

“Why, I would assume that the honorable Iruka-sensei would cut the ropes to free his arms for an ENDURING embrace and proclaim his LOVE to the stars above!!” As usual, Gai had entirely missed the dirty implications behind the conversation. 

“Yes, I’m sure that is exactly what will happen,” Kakashi deadpanned. The Green Beast’s enthusiasm had deflated the fantasy Tenzou had invoked. He directed a sullen glare at his comrades in the room as he thought back on his past experience involving two irate teammates and an exasperated Minato-sensei. “If…and I mean _IF_ I decide to take Iruka to this Fire Gong event, would it be in my best interests to allow him to ‘catch’ me? That is the point of the festival, is it not?”

“The point is to have fun!” Tenzou huffed in exasperation before he took a moment to sip at his tea. “And besides, I’ve seen firsthand how Iruka-sensei can sniff out bullshit. He's a beast at the Missions Desk.”

Kakashi glanced at Gai, who pursed his lips in thought. “My assessment is that Iruka-sensei would not be fooled by an easy chase,” the taijutsu-master said with a shrug.

“Ah, then I’ll give it my best,” Kakashi said. In truth he was wholeheartedly pleased that his comrades thought so well of Iruka’s capabilities. Another thought occurred to Kakashi, one that made his companions start as he leaped to his feet. 

“The festival is two weeks away!” Kakashi cried, the white of his eye showed that he was on the verge of panicking. “What in the nine hells am I gonna _do_ until then!?”

~*~*~*~*~

It was rare for Hatake Kakashi to willingly arrive early to anything not work-related. For the last two hours the aged proprietor and chef Ichiraku had worn a tight-lipped smile at the shinobi who sat in his establishment and had yet to make an order except for a glass of water. Kakashi blatantly ignored the ramen chef as the entirety of his attention was focused on the neon-yellow _Icha Icha: MASSACRE!_ novel held close to his face. Or more specifically, he was fixated on the secret note tucked between the pages.

Kakashi did not normally need a physical list with the Sharingan at his disposal, but he wanted to keep a copy on hand lest he felt the need to revise. He had learned long ago that the clutter of minor details might derail a shinobi from their prime directive. Minato-sensei had drilled the importance of relaying simple and clear instructions when outlining a mission, and Kakashi’s secret list was both short and direct.

**1\. Mutually partake in foodstuffs  
** **2\. Engage in personal conversation  
** **3\. Discover interests outside of work through said conversation  
** **4\. Deliver sincere remarks and compliments at periodic intervals  
**5\. Serenade heartfelt poetry when the mood is right** **

Beneath the mask Kakashi absently chewed at his lower lip as he contemplated the information he had gleaned from Tenzou and Gai and a few episodes of _’All My Ninja.’_ Gai had been rather insistent that the last suggestion be included. Kakashi had considered erasing it but hesitated at the possibility Iruka might actually like that sort of thing.

Poetry aside, Kakashi already had a few ideas that he could put to use in relation to number four. He could compliment Iruka as a cunning opponent during their muddied game of tag in the woods next to the Memorial Stone. Or he could mention how effectively Iruka utilized the pointy sharpness of his elbows during their spar earlier that morning…

His thoughts shifted to the events from the night before. Kakashi couldn’t say exactly how Iruka had brought him back to the surface from his genjutsu-induced comatose after the ill-fated Cloud Country mission. What he remembered most was the soothing motions of the sensei’s fingers gently running through his hair, and the soft hum of a lullaby. Kakashi could not remember ever feeling so at peace. It was only afterward that Kakashi had realized he trusted Iruka to not take advantage of his vulnerable state. He could not say how he had come to that conclusion, other than it was an instinct that Iruka was simply not capable of harboring malicious intent. Trust was not an easy thing for Hatake Kakashi to give, yet somehow the chuunin-sensei had earned it in an incredibly short amount of time. It was both thrilling and unsettling, the effect his new husband had over him.

Kakashi was painfully aware that he lacked the experience to maintain a healthy long-term relationship. Iruka was not a one-night-stand that would disappear the following morning nor was he a casual lover that could easily walk away at the first sign of trouble. Now more than ever Kakashi desperately wanted their marriage to work, but he had to tread carefully. He had always found Iruka attractive and had sensed from the start of their marriage contract that the feeling was mutual. Kakashi had utterly bungled his first opportunity by teasing Iruka to the point where he had lost his temper and had knocked Kakashi out cold with a sake cask on their wedding day. After that disaster, Kakashi had given his word to respect Iruka’s boundaries until the chuunin decided to cross them. After nearly two months he had held onto that promise until Iruka had taken the first step. Iruka’s smoldering look right before their spar earlier that morning was all the confirmation Kakashi had needed and it had ignited his dormant libido to fly right through the roof.

Kakashi recalled the vivid scar he had glimpsed on Iruka’s bare back from their spar earlier that morning, of how it pulled and stretched as the dark skin over his muscles flexed; how Iruka’s hot breath had puffed hot streams into the crisp autumn air; how the musk of his sweat had engulfed Kakashi’s senses like a heady buzz from an especially good vintage of brandy. Most especially, Kakashi remembered that look in those dark brown eyes right before Iruka had successfully pinned him against the cold dew-laden grass…it had been one of mischief and devious delight. Kakashi had just barely resisted giving into the temptation to reach out and tangle his fingers through the mussed hair and pull the other man down to finally taste those lips. He had wanted to touch and explore every jagged scar and hard angles of that body, and find out what other surprises the sensei had in store.

Kakashi frowned at the realization that his thoughts had gone far off track. _’What in the hell am I doing?’_ He released a heavy sigh upon the realization that he was not about to learn anything more from staring at his secret list. He yanked the note from the book and crumpled it into his fist, and a spark of chakra ignited the paper into ash in his palm. Long years working in ANBU compelled Kakashi to destroy hard copies of sensitive information once he had committed its contents to memory.

“What was that you just burned?” Iruka asked curiously from behind Kakashi’s shoulder.

Caught completely off guard, Kakashi flew into fight mode. He leaped from his seat and narrowly missed elbowing the startled chuunin in the face. Iruka’s head whipped aside to dodge Kakashi’s flailing arm, and at that same moment Kakashi’s foot got caught in the bottom rung of his vacated stool. He lost his balance and began to topple backwards. Iruka lurched over the stool for his stomach to rest against the wooden seat and caught Kakashi’s hand before the copy-nin could hit the ground. For several heartbeats both shinobi were frozen in their awkward positions, Iruka sprawled over the stool holding Kakashi by the hand with the jounin bent backward at an odd angle with his head mere inches from touching the ground. Breathless, the two men exchanged a wry look before they burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Maa, you came to my rescue, Iruka-sensei.” Kakashi chuckled as Iruka released his hand to allow the jounin to regain both his feet and his seat. Internally, Kakashi was frantically brainstorming for an excuse to explain away the secret note he had just burned.

“It’s nothing,” Iruka said as he sat in the stool to Kakashi’s left. Both his cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed a rosy hue from the evening chill and he wore a bright orange scarf wound about his neck. Iruka regarded the flustered expression on Kakashi’s face. “Are you okay?”

Iruka appeared to have completely forgotten the burned note and for that Kakashi was relieved. “Never better,” he lied, thinking _’This is not a date. This is not a date.’_ What in the nine hells was he so nervous about? He was ‘Sharingan Kakashi,’ master of a thousand jutsu and shameless consumer of literary porn. Both he and the chuunin-sensei had shared meals at the Hatake mansion before, so why did eating out in public feel so different?

Iruka shrugged off Kakashi’s odd behavior and twisted in his seat to peer over the heads of two kunoichi patrons at a poster tacked against the wall to advertise the specialties of the week. Kakashi observed how the bulky green vest wrinkled and shifted around Iruka’s torso and he was again reminded of the hard muscular body it hid underneath. Kakashi felt heat rise beneath his mask and he tore his eyes away to stare at the scarred wooden countertop between his gloved fingers. It was ridiculous that he was fretting whether or not he had asked the chuunin out on a formal date. But what if it was a date? Did Iruka think it was a date? The stakes would be much higher if it was. _’Are we on a real date?’_ “Are we on a real date?” Kakashi asked without thinking, and he cringed.

Iruka averted his eyes and plucked a pair of disposable wooden chopsticks from the storage cup and proceeded to fiddle with the disposable paper wrapping and Kakashi caught the glint of Iruka’s wedding ring. “I’m not sure,” he asked tentatively without looking up at Kakashi. “Are we?” 

Kakashi sensed that this was all going very wrong. He had to rectify the mood before it could further deteriorate. “I think so…” He self-consciously scratched the back of his head and decided then to be honest. “I mean…I hope it is. A real date, I mean,” he mumbled at the end.

To his surprise Iruka began to chuckle. It was a warm sound that once again released a swarm of butterflies to batter the insides of Kakashi’s stomach. With a shy smile, Iruka looked up at Kakashi, and the jounin could plainly see relief in those dark eyes. “I was hoping that you would say something like that.”

Kakashi released a breath that he was not aware he had been holding. His natural eye crinkled above his mask as he returned Iruka’s smile. “Yeah, me too,” was the only response that he could manage.

The gears in Kakashi’s mind whirled as Iruka turned to place his order with the ramen chef. An official date could lead to better things between them as a couple, and now that it had been established Kakashi could switch to the tactics from his notes. They were about to mutually partake in foodstuffs so the next step was to initiate a conversation for clues to a potential outing. 

“So,” Kakashi ventured casually, “what do you like to do outside of work?” 

“Are you asking about my hobbies?” At Kakashi’s nod, Iruka grinned and gestured around the ramen stand. “I consider eating ramen a hobby. I’ll even go so far to say that I’m some sort of an expert at it!” he said proudly.

 _’It’s no wonder that he and Naruto get along so well’_ Kakashi thought. “I meant outside of food,” he said out loud. At the chuunin’s puzzled look he tried to be more specific. “Traveling?”

Iruka self-consciously tugged at the orange scarf around his neck. “Well…I’d like to visit the remote villages and stay at the inns along the road.” He hesitated before adding: “especially if they have onsen.”

“You like hot spring resorts?” Kakashi was genuinely surprised. He had not pegged Iruka as the type to travel the country for the sole intent to lounge in hot mineral water and eat gourmet meals. He was of the impression that that was more of an old person’s hobby.

Iruka tugged harder at his scarf. “I know it’s a little weird since it’s not very exciting, but I always liked the idea of going somewhere where I don’t have to think too hard.” He grimaced. “It’s…I mean, it’s because...” Iruka made a frustrated sound and waved a hand to gesture all of Konoha. “You know, to get away from it all.”

“I see,” Kakashi hummed. In truth he didn’t, really. Kakashi typically used his assigned R&R to hole up in the safety and solitude of his home with a mountain of trashy novels at his disposal. He would only venture out occasionally to terrorize Tenzou or Gai whenever he became stir-crazy or bored. But then again, the majority of Iruka’s active duty was confined inside Konoha;, the downside of that was there was very little chance for him to relax without encountering coworkers or students. In that regard Kakashi could not deny the appeal of the chuunin-sensei’s dream, and that the prospect of traveling around the countryside without the pressure of a mission to complete might actually be pleasant. 

Kakashi drummed his fingers against the countertop, pleased to have pegged one of Iruka’s key interests. Now he needed to probe for more details. “Is there an onsen you like best?” he asked.

One corner of Iruka’s mouth quirked as he resumed fiddling with his chopsticks. “Actually, I only visited the onsen outside the immediate range of the village. I've never had the money or the time to explore the resorts outside Konoha aside from those of the odd mission here and there.” A wistful look crossed the sensei’s face. “But someday I’ll make the time to visit them.”

“I’m sure you will,” Kakashi agreed. He grinned secretly beneath his mask. It was almost too perfect. He did not need the five minute timeframe Tenzou had suggested to strategize a romantic outing. That distant look of longing in those brown eyes was all the confirmation Kakashi needed. Plus there was the unexpected bonus he would have the opportunity to bathe with Iruka, a very _naked_ Iruka, and Kakashi wondered what other parts of the sensei’s body would blush apart from that scarred face.

Kakashi could feel the threat of a nosebleed and he shut down that line of erotic thought to focus on the matter at hand. With growing excitement he prepared a proposal for an outing to one of those remote hot springs. Kakashi opened his mouth to speak then snapped it shut. He did not want go on a normal _boring_ vacation with his husband. He had to express his romantic intentions before he proceeded, but how? Maybe it could be a date-cation? No, that didn’t sound right. Was there an appropriate word to describe a not-a-vacation for newly wedded couples?

Realization hit Kakashi like a roundhouse kick to the gut. _’Oh hell! We never had a honeymoon!’_

Iruka’s fingers had ceased playing with the chopsticks at the wide look of panic in the copy-nin’s natural eye. 

“Is…are you sure you’re feeling well?” Iruka leaned into Kakashi’s personal space to better study what was visible of his face, and Kakashi felt his heartbeat quicken for an entirely different reason as his vision focused on those melting brown eyes. 

Iruka wore an expression of concern. “I didn’t want to say anything,” he murmured. “But I was really worried about you last night.”

Before Kakashi could collect his scattered thoughts Ichiraku appeared with an oversized bowl of ramen in hand. Kakashi exhaled a sharp breath of relief. For once the gods above were merciful and came to his rescue. Iruka’s eyes lit up over his decadent bowl filled with generous portions of pork, mushrooms, dried seaweed and a hardboiled egg. And Kakashi found himself smiling as Iruka took a moment to close his eyes and inhale the fragrant steam with a look of pure content.

Kakashi realized then that he had never placed an order for himself, but before he could react Ichiraku had placed a steaming bowl before him. Kakashi frowned at his ramen. It contained no meat or seasoned vegetables from what he could see and was garnished with a single sheet of dried seaweed that floated forlornly above the noodles. Kakashi recalled seeing this dish on the menu: seaweed miso ramen stood out as both the cheapest and blandest option available. “I didn’t order this,” he informed the aging ramen chef.

The normally jovial Ichiraku gave the copy-nin a flat look. “Forgive me, Hatake-san, but you have long expired your right to place an order today.” He tapped a metal ladle against a bubbling pot of soup stock, his tone turning gruff. “You may be one of Konoha’s most notable shinobi but in my restaurant you are just another customer and I am just one man with a small business to keep.” The ladle shot out to wave menacingly under the baffled copy-nin’s nose. “So think about THAT the next time you decide to park your ass in one of my chairs for two hours without placing an order for anything but water!”

Dumbstruck by the chastisement, Kakashi could only gape as Ichiraku turned away with a broad smile to greet a new customer entering the booth. Iruka snorted what suspiciously sounded like a giggle into his bowl. 

Kakashi gave his companion a wry look then placed a hand over his mouth and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can see why you like to come here.”

“To tell you the truth,” Iruka smirked as he replied in an equally conspiratorial tone, “I learned a thing or two about handling shinobi in the Mission Room from him.”

Kakashi chuckled then proceeded to tuck into his ramen. It was top notch, even if it was the most meager option on the menu. Kakashi thought back on his revelation as they silently ate. Would Iruka like to go on a honeymoon or was he disappointed that Kakashi had not thought to ask after nearly two months into their marriage? Or had the idea of a honeymoon slip from Iruka’s mind as it did for Kakashi? Would Iruka like to travel to one of those tiny onsen resorts or did he expect something grander? Or would he want to go somewhere else entirely? On that matter, what did couples usually do on their honeymoons? 

Kakashi really hoped that all the sordid details described in _Icha Icha_ were not entirely fabricated by the author. Jiraiya-san was a notorious playboy bachelor so his books were probably not a reliable source of reference. By the time Kakashi had slurped the last of his noodles he was feeling a headache coming on from all the worrying and second-guessing. 

“By the way,” Iruka said offhandedly as he fished through his broth for a last noodle or a stray slice of pork. “Do you know anything about the Fire Gong Festival?”

Kakashi seized the opportunity by the throat. “YES!” His overeager outburst startled Iruka enough to make him jump in his seat and Ichiraku-san to drop his ladle with a curse. One of the kunoichi at the far end of the counter began to choke on her tea and her companion shot a glare as she pounded her companion’s back. Kakashi acted as if nothing was amiss as he coughed into his fist to clear his throat. “Ahem, I have heard of it.”

“Oh.” Iruka blinked, then his eyes darted about in search of one of his chopsticks he had dropped. “Sakura-chan stopped by the Academy today and mentioned that she was going to attend with some of her old classmates.” He gave up the search for the missing chopstick and pushed his bowl away with a sigh. “She asked if I would like to volunteer monitoring the pre-genins participating in the chase this year.”

Kakashi felt his hopes deflate. “Did you agree?” he asked, and hoped that he did not sound too disappointed.

Iruka looked away and again tugged at his scarf. “Not exactly…” He looked as if he wanted to duck his head beneath the garishly orange fabric. “Normally I would, but I thought…that is, I w-wanted to keep my options open.” He shyly looked up at Kakashi through his dark lashes. One corner of his mouth stretched into a nervous smile. “I don’t know if it’s really your thing, but if you are not too busy..?” His voice trailed off.

“I don’t think I am,” Kakashi replied with feigned indifference. Internally, he fretted _’but I should have asked you first,’_ as he thought back to his notes. He was determined to not let this opportunity slip by and said, “But this festival sounds interesting.”

The muscles in Iruka’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Have you ever participated in the Fire Gong chase?”

“Once, back when I was assigned to Minato-sensei’s team.” Kakashi struggled with how to properly sum up the experience. “It wasn’t much of a chase.”

“Why was that?” Iruka asked.

“At that time Team Minato was newly formed. My teammates were unfamiliar with my capabilities and had yet to develop the skills associated with teamwork to unify and retaliate against a stronger foe.” Kakashi tapped his chin in thought. “The game probably would have lasted much longer if I had not started as the hunter at the beginning of the game. Either way, neither Obito or Rin would have ever been able to catch me if I had the opportunity to be the prey.”

“I bet that I can catch you.”

Kakashi paused to regard the grinning sensei. He rolled his eye with a scoff. “If you are thinking back on that mud fight last week a race is nothing to compare.” He continued to explain: “you and I were at an equal disadvantage because it was in an enclosed setting limited by the territory around the Memorial Stone.” Kakashi propped a hand under his chin over the table as he looked Iruka directly in the eye. “You have no idea of how fast I am.”

“Oh?” Iruka smirked and raised an eyebrow back at the pale jounin. He folded his arms as a sign that he was not put-off. “Is that a challenge or a boast, Hatake-san?”

Kakashi noted the spark that had appeared in Iruka’s eyes. He recognized it for what it was: it was the same mischievous look from their morning spar right before the chuunin-sensei had used a trick to flip Kakashi onto his back and win the match. Umino Iruka was full of surprises, and if they participated in the Fire Gong chase Kakashi believed that he could be caught. The possibility thrilled him as much as the realization that he _wanted_ to be caught by the sensei.

The feel of Iruka’s warm body pinning him to the cold wet ground that morning sprang to Kakashi’s mind, as well the knowledge of the forested area of the Fire Gong Festival that was strictly restricted to minors. Kakashi felt heat rising underneath his mask. He could only imagine what happened between couples under the blanket of darkness, and Kakashi had a _very_ active imagination. He came back to the present and grasped for something to say before he could make a fool of himself. “It’s neither a boast nor a challenge,” he truthfully replied in regard to his speed. “It’s just a fact.”

The mischievous spark retreated from Iruka’s eyes. “I see,” he said with an unreadable expression. 

Kakashi sensed that he had somehow made another misstep. “I can show you,” he quickly added.

“Show me how?” Iruka frowned with a curious tilt to his head. “Do you want to race back home?”

 _”Home.”_ The way Iruka said that word roused the butterflies in Kakashi’s stomach. “Not exactly.” He took a gamble, and Iruka’s eyes widened as the jounin’s pale fingers curled over his right hand. Iruka made no move to pull away, which emboldened Kakashi to encourage the sensei to stand from his seat. Kakashi continued, “Like I said, I can show you.” Kakashi took a step closer, and when Iruka did not pull away as he closed the distance between them to whisper in the sensei’s ear: “But you will have to hold on tight. I wouldn’t want to lose you in the dark.”

His words summoned a brilliant flush which crept over the sensei’s scarred face, and Kakashi couldn’t help feeling a bit proud of himself for being so smooth. Iruka was adorable whenever he blushed, and Kakashi decided to flirt more in the future.

The loud bang of a ladle hitting a metal pot spoiled the moment. “Oi! Hatake-san!” Ichiraku-san cried. The ramen chef shot Iruka an apologetic look then redirected his scowl on Kakashi. “Do not forget to pay before you leave. Unlike you I have a business to keep!”

Iruka flinched as he became aware of the other patrons staring at their joined hands. Wide-eyed and furiously blushing, he jerked his arm in an attempt to escape. Without thinking, Kakashi had tightened his hold to prevent Iruka from pulling away, and in his distraction he failed to notice how easily the other man relented to allow his grip.

Kakashi coolly regarded the irate ramen chef, then released Iruka’s hand to retrieve something from a secret pocket on his flak vest. Ichiraku’s narrowed eyes boggled at the five hundred ryo coin on the counter, which was enough to buy ten bowls of seaweed miso ramen. “Thank you for the delicious meal, Ichiraku-san.” Kakashi said respectfully with a crooked smile under his mask. “And I am sorry for the trouble that I have caused to upset your establishment. I promise to be more mindful in the future.”

“Think nothing of it!” Ichiraku grinned with a broad sweep of his hand. All traces of his ire appeared to have been completely smoothed over. “Please know that you are welcome to come back any time!”

With the business of the ramen chef concluded, Kakashi turned and began to walk away. “What?” he asked when he noticed the bemused expression on the younger man’s face.

Iruka chuckled. “Oh, it’s just that I never knew that Ichiraku-san is susceptible to bribes. I’ll have to remember that the next time Naruto eats up all the ramen supplies.” The mischievous spark danced in his brown eyes. “Now, show me how fast you can run!

Kakashi did not need a second prompting, and started at a brisk trot to warm up. By the time they were almost at the heart of the village, they were both at a full sprint. The main street bustled with nighttime activity; boisterous shinobi roamed the pubs and hawkers peddled food from brightly painted carts. Freshly baked sweets and sizzling meat drew small crowds of hungry villagers and off-duty shinobi wanting to take dinner home. The residents of Konoha were used to the antics of their shinobi and did not spare a second glance at the copy-nin and academy teacher weaving through the jostling crowd as effortlessly as if they were dodging obstacles in a densely wooded path.

Kakashi did not bother to check behind. He knew Iruka was easily keeping pace with his long loping stride at every twist and turn he made. Then without giving any warning the jounin kicked his feet off the ground and leaped over a red painted foodcart advertising yakitori and beer. Using the cover of the food cart and its customers to his advantage, Kakashi made a sharp turn down a deserted alleyway beyond the bustle of the crowd. He heard Iruka land over the food cart as Kakashi stepped into the shadows. With a smirk Kakashi pooled chakra into his legs and performed a graceful flip to run vertically up the battered brick wall. Close behind, Iruka clucked his tongue as he likewise followed to the rooftops.

The open sky was a breath of fresh air compared to the crowded street below. Stars glittered in the infinite black of a cloudless night beset with a thin crescent of a waxing moon. The air was colder and the shinobi felt the sharp bite of frost whenever they took a breath. They flew in a wild zig-zag pattern from building to building, Kakashi in the lead and Iruka a few steps behind. It was a bit of a challenge with the poor natural light and height difference of the buildings, as well as compensating chakra control according to the different roofing materials. They bounded from steeply shingled roofs to flat concrete slabs and even the occasional cable antennas. The lights from street lamps and windows were a river of bright colors below that faintly illuminated the two shinobi engaged in their game like children playing hopscotch.

Iruka had quickly picked up on Kakashi’s body language to anticipate when and where he was about to jump. Kakashi tried to use that against him, just to make things more interesting. After a few successful bouts misleading Iruka to the wrong building the chuunin caught on to the ruse and paid closer attention to the position of the jounin’s feet; in no time he had caught up again and was right on Kakashi’s heels. When Kakashi glanced behind he saw a triumphant smile on Iruka’s face, the long ends of the orange scarf around his neck fluttering like a banner to declare his determination.

An idea struck Kakashi when they neared the sparsely spaced buildings that bordered the edge of the village. He led the other man towards the direction of East Gate, one of the four heavily guarded gates inside the barricaded wall that protected Konoha and its citizens. It was his intent to lead Iruka into the assumption that East Gate was their destination, so it was a complete surprise for the sensei when in mid-jump Kakashi spun almost lazily in the air and in full view began the hand seals for a teleportation jutsu.

Realizing what was about happen, Iruka lurched to grab Kakashi’s foot by the ankle before the last seal was complete. Through a thick cloud of teleportation smoke Iruka made an undignified squawk when he found himself a few paces above the grassy training grounds far from the village. He was able to release Kakashi’s ankle in time before he could crash face-first into the hard earth, but Kakashi took advantage of the disoriented sensei to snatch Iruka’s wrist before he was able to collect his wits.

Kakashi hit the ground running. With Iruka in tow he tore across the field heading for the nearby forest. Through the wind whistling in his ears he heard Iruka’s sharp gasp of surprise and sensed the chuunin pumping chakra into his legs to match the incredible speed, but at times the sensei’s feet barely touched the ground. Kakashi had not made an idle boast. After all, he had once been a pupil of The Yellow Flash.

Together they flew over the withered grass and into the forest where Kakashi followed a path leading to the tallest tree in the area. Dead leaves crunched and fluttered in their wake as they approached an ancient giant of a pine that towered well above any building in Konoha. Iruka followed the jounin’s lead with a tight grip as they sped up the immense trunk without breaking stride.

As they circled up the immense trunk Kakashi felt a jolt of exhilaration as they neared the top. He gathered chakra in his legs and shot through the canopy with a tremendous leap, higher than any he had performed over the rooftops. The village in the distance was a tight cluster of glowing embers in the darkness. The Hokage Monument loomed as a black shadow outlined by a canopy of stars, but rather than an ominous presence the impassive sculptures of the four Hokages were more akin to protective guardians watching over their sleepy village.

The flesh on his uncovered face was numb from the cold and the warmth of his companion’s grip was a welcome presence. Kakashi felt the gentle tug of gravity pull at his body as he reached the peak of his ascent. He closed his eye and surrendered to the liberating sensation of weightlessness. Here, there were no clan leadership troubles or council members scheming to maneuver him into a position of power. In this brief moment Kakashi was free from violence or any names chiseled into stone. In this moment there was nothing but the stars and Iruka’s hand to anchor him to the human world.

Kakashi felt his body tilt backwards as they began to fall. A soft tickle over his nose prompted him to open his eye. Iruka had twisted in the air to hover above Kakashi; it had been the fringe of one end of the orange scarf that had brushed his nose. 

Iruka’s cheeks were flushed, expression aglow; his eyes shone like the stars. “Showoff,” he whispered, and then let out a breathless laugh that caressed Kakashi’s ears.

With a smile that pulled at his facial scar, Iruka’s free hand rapidly performed a teleportation jutsu. Both men found themselves laughing as they landed in a sprawl over the familiar blue ceramic shingles that covered the roofs over the Hatake mansion. Iruka had deposited them in a particular spot where the roof was a comfortable slope for them to sit without the need of chakra to prevent them from sliding. The sensei was fairly panting from the exertion of the race, his breath billowing white as he brushed aside loose hair that had escaped his disheveled ponytail. “You really are fast!” Iruka gasped once he was able to speak, his voice tinged with awe.

“Told you so,” Kakashi replied with a wink and a grin.

Iruka returned the grin. “I have a few ideas now on how I might catch you.” The smile faltered on his lips. “That is, if you still want to go to the festival.”

“For sure,” Kakashi said without any hesitation. “Although, I’m very interested to see what you have in store.” He made a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrow. “I wonder though, if you’ll be able to handle _my_ technique?”

“Hey!” Iruka rose to the challenge with a smirk. “Don’t think that I will be easy prey.”

 _’As slippery as an eel, I suspect.’_ Kakashi thought with a hum of agreement.

A comfortable silence settled between the two as they caught their breath. The minutes began to stretch as the euphoria of the race wore off, and with it returned the damnable awkwardness that had plagued Kakashi throughout most of the evening. Though Kakashi’s anxiety had lessened since the ramen shop ‘date’ he thought he could be content with the silence, he was still unsure if he was required to speak up, to say something to encourage their camaraderie even more. He crossed his legs into a more comfortable sitting position to give the appearance that he was surveying the shadowy gardens below and not the chuunin-sensei from the corner of his eye.

Iruka appeared as equally reluctant to break the silence. He sat with his knees drawn close to his chest, the lower half of his face was buried up to the nose inside the garishly orange scarf and Kakashi could see he was tense by how tightly he clasped his hands around his knees. The sensei’s brow was furrowed and his eyes fixed on something far away to show that he was deep in thought. It was not an expression that a person would wear after a successful dinner date.

Kakashi felt a spike in his anxiety. An old memory surfaced in his mind of a scowling Umino Iruka stationed behind the registry desk. _’What did I do wrong?’_ Kakashi resisted an impulse to squirm. Only a handspan separated the space where their shoulders might meet, yet to Kakashi the distance between himself and his husband felt much wider.

“I want to thank you for tonight.” Iruka’s soft voice dashed the copy-nin’s fretful assumptions. The sensei did not glance at his companion as he moved to rest his hands over his knees. Apprehension quickly gave way to curiosity when Kakashi noted a slight trembling in the ink-stained fingers. Without thinking he leaned forward to better study the other man’s face and froze when Iruka’s gaze flickered to meet his. 

The brown eyes reflected the glow of the crescent moon and held the steadfast resolution that a shinobi only wore whenever they were about to plummet into the unknown. Without any outward sign of hesitation Iruka closed the space between them. Kakashi’s heart skipped a beat at the gentle pressure of lips against his masked cheek. The kiss lasted only a brief moment before Iruka drew back, his expression tentative as he gauged the jounin’s reaction.

Kakashi sat transfixed under Iruka’s gaze as if he were under a spell. A sensation of warmth coursed from his heart and into every inch of his being, and with it came a yearning hunger, a desperate need for more. Kakashi’s hands twitched in want of reaching out to the sensei, but he was disciplined when it counted and recognized a retreat when he saw one. “You’re welcome, Iruka-sensei,” he answered before Iruka’s expression could fall at the prolonged silence. His uncovered eye crinkled in a genuine smile. “But really I should be thanking you. I am only now realizing what a lucky man I am.”

In Kakashi’s mind he had only stated a simple fact, but for some reason his words had a profound effect on Iruka. His eyes had widened to saucers, and even in the dim moonlight Kakashi could see the scarred face darken from a spectacular blush. Iruka appeared to collect himself and jerked away. He apparently forgot the angle of the roof and knocked an elbow hard against a ceramic shingle. “I—uh,” he stared up at puzzled copy-nin, then choked out in a flustered rush: “I-I-I’mgoingtobednow!” His hands flew in a blur and then he was gone, leaving behind a very confused Kakashi and a puff of smoke gently billowing off the roof.

With a shrug Kakashi stretched out his legs and settled into a more comfortable position over the weathered shingles. With a grateful sigh he folded his hands behind his head to gaze up at the infinite darkness and twinkling stars above. He felt no immediate urge to retire for bed and he needed to reflect on what he had discussed with Hatake Takenoko... but for now he wanted to bask in the afterglow of Iruka’s first kiss. He could still feel the pressure of it against his cheek. Come hell or high water, Hatake Kakashi was determined to attend that Fire Gong Festival, even if he had to pull a few unscrupulous strings.

Kakashi’s brow furrowed when he felt a strange emotion bubbling to the surface of his psyche. It had the sensation of a tingling in his heart that spread throughout his limbs in pleasant little waves and warmed him to his core. After a few moments of careful thought, Kakashi gave into the urge to smile and chuckled with relief as he recognized the emotion for what it truly was.

He had thought he had forgotten what it had felt to be happy.

~*~*~*~*~

**TBC**


End file.
